^  o 


LIBEARY 

OP   THE 

Theological   Seminary, 

PRINCETON,    N.  J. 

Case, wC-^--  Dlv 

Shelf,     Cj.3lOJ...     Sect. 

Booh, No,. 


/ 


DR.     ARNOLD'S     WORKS. 

D,  Appleton  $f   Compuny  Publish 
I. 

THE    HISTORY    OF    ROME, 

FROM  THE  EARLIEST  PERIOD. 
BY    THOMAS  ARNOLD,  D.  D  , 

Late  Head  Master  of  Rugby  School,  and  Regius  Professor  of  History  in  the  University  of  Oxford. 
The  three  volumes  of  the  last  London  edition  reprinted  entire  in  two  handsome  8vo.  volumes.  Price  $5. 
The  History  of  Rome  will  remain  to  the  latest  age  of  the  woild,  the  most  attrnctive,  the  most  useful  and  the  most  elevat- 
ing subject  of  human  contemplation.  It  must  ever  form  the  basis  of  a  liberal  and  enlightened  education  and  present  the  most 
important  object  to  the  contemplation  of  the  statesman.  It.  is  remarkable  that  until  the  appearance  of  Dr.  Arnold's  volumes 
no  history  (excepting  "  Niebuhr's,"  whose  style  is  often  obscure,)  of  this  wonderful  people  existed,  commensurate  either  to 
their  dignity,  their  importance,  or  their  intimate  connection  with  modern  institutions.  Dr.  Arnold's  History  of  Rome  has 
long  since  been  admitted,  by  the  most  eminent  scholars,  to  excel  all  others. 

II. 

SERMONS 
PREACHED  IN  THE  CHAPEL  OF  RUGBY  SCHOOL. 

With  an  address  before  Confirmation. 

BY   THOMAS  ARNOLD,  D.  D. 

One  neat  volumej,16mo.  •  Price  75  cts. 
These  discourses  are  part  of  the  series  of  didactic  morality  with  which  the  renowned  author  enlightened  and  guided  the 
large  number  of  youth  who  were  placed  under  his  care,  during  their  academic  course,  prior  to  their  admission  into  the  British 
Universities.  Although  they  naturally  are  directed  to  the  existing  state  of  education  in  the  Anglican  endowed  schools,  and 
to  the  condition  of  the  students  in  them  ;  yet  the  author's  far-reaching  views,  high-toned  morality,  and  monitions  respecting 
the  adequate  and  right  improvement  of  their  privileges  are  of  universal  application  ;  and  with  few  exceptions  are  similarly 
adapted,  ceteris  paribus,  to  the  higher  classes  in  our  grammar  schools,  and  the  various  grades  of  collegians  in  our  own  country 
as  in  England.  The  volume  will  be  highly  prized  by  tutors  and  professors  of  every  department,  and  will  be  found  to  be  an 
edifying  manual  to  all  interested  in  the  education  of  youth. 

III. 

LECTURES    ON    MODERN    HISTORY: 

BY   THOMAS  ARNOLD,  D.   D. 

With  an  Introduction  and  Notes,  by  Henry  Reed.  Professor  of  English  Literature  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania 

One  handsome  volume,  12mo.  $1  25. 
This  volume  contains  the  first  lectures  which  were  delivered  by  Dr.  Arnold  after  his  appointment  as  Regus  Professor  of 
History  in  the  University  of  Oxford.  The  series  of  Lectures  must  be  considered  merely  as  introductory  to  the  expanded  views 
and  researches  which  the  author  would  have  developed  had  his  life  been  prolonged.  In  the  primary  lecture  which  was  deliv- 
ered when  he  entered  upon  his  official  duty,  the  lecturer  presented  his  definition  of  history  with  a  summary  of  the  duties  ap- 
pertaining to  the  professor  of  it.  Appropriate,  dignified  and  perspicuous,  it  exhibits  both  originality  and  power  in  a  high  de- 
gree, commingled  with  felicitous  illustrations  of  the  characteristics,  effects,  and  value  of  historical  literature.  Four  lectures 
follow  on  the  study  of  history,  rich  in  the  prominent  topics  of  inquiry  concerning  national  prosperity — among  which,  with 
masterly  eloquence  and  delineations  he  adverts  to  the  political  economy,  the  religious  controversies,  the  national  wars,  and 
the  geographical  relations  of  countries. — The  next  three  lectures  contain  a  survey  of  European  history,  particularly  examining 
the  revolutions  in  ecclesiastical  affairs,  and  the  continuous  struggles  to  cast  off  the  despotic  yoke,  and  to  gain  and  establish 
religious  and  civil  freedom.— The  eighth  lecture  displays  the  nature  of  that  historical  testimony  which  claims  and  merits  cre- 
dence. In  this  disquisition  the  author  exhibits  in  its  truth  and  forcefulness  the  law  of  evidence  and  the  method  of  its  applica- 
tion in  investigating  historical  facts.  The  couise  of  lectures  is  an  elegant  memorial  of  the  author  whose  unquenchable  philan- 
thropy and  untiring  zeal  in  behalf  of  the  best  interests  of  mankind  render  his  decease  the  subject  of  regret  to  the  civilized 
world. 

IV. 

MISCELLANEOUS  WORKS  OF  THOMAS  ARNOLD,  D.  D., 

Late  Head  Master  at  Rugby  School,  and  Regius  Professor  of  History  in  the  University  of  Oxford. 
One  handsome  8vo.  volume.  $2  00. 
The  topics  of  this  volume  are  greatly  diversified  ;  including  disquisitions  on  the  "  Church,"  on  "  Church  and  State,"  in  its 
existing  British  combinations— on  Scriptural  and  Secular  Histoiy— and  on  Education,  with  various  other  subjects  of  Political 
Economy  With  few  exceptions,  the  matter  is  of  general  application  and  lasting  interest;  and  the  whole  is  full  of  far-reaching 
perspicacity,  and  a  burning  philanthropic  attachment  to  the  accelerating  progress  of  sterling  knowledge,  genuine  freedom,  pure 
religion  and  molality,  and  the  best  interests  and  permanent  enjoyment  of  mankind.  The  volume  of  Miscellanies  is  a  suitable 
counterpart  to  the  "  Life  and  Correspondence  of  Dr.  Arnold  ;"  and  scholars  who  have  been  so  deeply  interested  in  that  impres- 
sive biography,  will  be  gratified  to  ascertain  the  deliberate  judgment  of  the  Author,  upon  the  numerous  important  themes 
which  his  "  Miscellaneous  Works"  so  richly  and  clearly  announce. 

V. 

LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF  THOMAS  ARNOLD,  D.  D. 

BY  THE  REV.  A.  P.  STANLEY.  A.  M. 

Two  vols,  of  English  edition  in  one  vol.  8vo.  large  type,  $2  50. 
It  is  not  possible  strictly  to  characterize  a  volume  so  peculiarly  miscellaneous  in  its  contents.  Not  only  is  the  individual 
fully  portrayed  ;but  his  official  relations  are  displayed  in  their  prominency.  Hence  to  Collegiate  Professors  and  other  Tutors 
his  life  is  a  manual  whence  they  may  learn  much  knowledge  respecting  tuition,  and  its  associated  duties.  The  volume  com- 
bines a  mass  of  literary  history  and  portraits  of  his  contemporaries,  with  a  full  development  of  the  great  Oxford  controversy. 
tt  is  the  best  picture  of  England  which  can  be  procured— and  is  an  essential  work  for  all  scholars  and  professional  men  who 
would  accurately  comprehend  the  character  and  actions  and  influence  of  many  persons  who  new  stand  prominent  in  Britain, 
especially  in  connection  with  the  Church  of  England  and  the  University  of  Oxford,  and  modern  literature. 

IN    PRESS. 

HISTORY  OF  THE  LATER  ROMAN  COMMONWEALTH. 

BY   THOMAS  ARNOLD,  D.  D. 

Two  vols,  of  English  edition,  in  one  handsome  8vo  volume. 
This  work  firms  a  continuation  of  the  two  volumes  of  the  Early  History  just  published  ;  and  brings  the  History  down  to 
the  period  of  "  Gibbon." 


D.  Appleton  fy  Co.'s  Educational  Publications. 
T.   K.     ARNOLD'S 

GREEK  AND  LATIN  BOOKS, 

FOR  SCHOOLS  AND  COLLEGES. 

REVISED  AND  CAREFULLY  CORRECTED  BY  THE  REV.  J.  A.  SPENCER,  A.  M. 
***  T/iii  Series  of  Classical  Works  has  attained  a  circulation  almost  unparalleled,  being  introduced 
into  nearly  all  the  great  Public  Sehools  and  leading  Educational  Institutions  in  England.     They  art 
also  very  highly  recommended  by  some  of  the  best  American  Scholars,  for  introduction  into  the  Clas- 
sical Schools  of  the  United  States. 

NOW  READY. 
I.     A   FIRST    AND    SECOND 

LATIN  BOOK  AND  PRACTICAL  GRAMMAR. 

One   neat  volume,  12mo.    Price  75  cts. 

The  chief  object  of  this  work  (which  is  f  >unded  on  the  principles  of  imitation  and  frequent 
repetition),  is  to  enable  the  pupil  to  do  exercises  from  the  first  day  of  his  beginning  his  acci- 
dence. # 

The  First  Book  can  be  had  separately  for  Junior  Classes  in  Schools.    Price  50  cts. 

II.     A  PRACTICAL  INTRODUCTION  TO  LATIN  PROSE 
COMPOSITION. 

ONE     VOLUME,    12MO. 

This  work  is  also  founded  on  the  principles  of  imitation  and  frequent  repetition.  It  is  at 
once  a  Syntax,  a  Vocabulary,  and  an  Exercise  Book;  and  considerable  attention  has  been  paid 
to  the  subject  of  Synonyms. 

IN  PREPARATION. 

I.  A  FIRST  AND  SECOND  GREEK  BOOK,  with  Easy  Exer- 
cises and  Vocabulary.     One  volume,  12mo. 

II.  A  PRACTICAL  INTRODUCTION  TO  GREEK  PROSE 
COMPOSITION.     One  volume,  12mo. 

This  work  consists  of  a  Greek  Syntax,  founded  on  Butimann's,  and  Easy  Sentences  transla- 
ted  into  Greek,  after  given  Examples,  and  with  given  Words. 

III.  CORNELIUS  NEPOS,  with  Critical  Questions  and  Answers, 
and  an  Imitative  Exercise  on  each  Chapter. 

IV.  ECLOGiE  OVIDIANvE,  with  English  Notes,  fcc. 

This  work  is  from  the  fifth  part  of  the  Lateinsches  Elementarbuch  of  Profs.  Jacobs  and  Do- 
ring,  which  has  an  immense  circulaiion  on  the  Continent. 

V.  HISTORIC  ANTIQUE  EPITOME,  from  Cornelius  Nepos, 
Justin,  &c.,  with  English  Notes,  Rules  for  Constructing,  Ques- 
tions, Geographical  Lists,  &c. 

This  is  a  most  valuable  collection  of  Classical  School  Books  ;  and  its  publication  may  be  re- 
garded as  the  presage  of  better  things  in  respect  to  the  mode  of  teaching  and  acquiring  Lan- 
guages. Heretofore  hoys  have  been  condemned  to  the  diudgery  of  going  over  Latin  and  Greek 
Grammar  without  the  remotest  conception  of  the  value  of  what  they  were  learning,  and  every 
day  becoming  more  and  more  disgusted  with  the  dry  and  unmeaning  task  ;  but  now.  by  Mr.  Ar- 
nold's admirable  method — substamially  the  same  with  that  of  Ollendorff — the  moment  they 
take  up  the  study  of  Latin  or  Greek,  they  begin  to  learn  sentences,  to  acquire  ideas,  to  see 
how  the  Romans  and  Greeks  expressed  themselves,  how  their  mode  of  expression  differed  from 
ours,  and  by  degrees  they  lay  up  a  stock  of  knowledge  which  is  utterly  astonishing  to  those  who 
have  dragged  on  month  after  month  in  the  old-fashioned,  dry,  studious  way  of  learning  Lan- 
guages. 

Mr.  Arnold,  in  fact,  has  had  the  good  sense  to  adopt  the  system  of  Nature.  A  child  learns 
his  own  language  by  imitating  what  he  hears,  and  cons'antly  repeating  it  till  it  is  fastened  in  the 
memory.  In  the  same  way  Mr.  A  puts  the  pupil  immediately  toworK  at  Exercises  in  Latin  and 
Greek  involving  the  elementary  ptinciplcs  of  the  language — words  are  supplied — the  mode  of 
putting  tliL'ii  togeihcr  is  told  the  pupil— -he  is  shown  how  the  Ancients  expressed  their  ideas; 
and  then  by  repeating  these  things  again  and  again — iterum  iterumquc — the  docile  pupil  has  them 
indelibly  impressed  upon  his  memory  and  rooted  in  his  understanding. 

The  American  edition  comes  out  under  the  most  favorable  auspices.  The  Editor  is  a  tho- 
rough Classical  Scholar  and  bus  been  a  practical  teacher  for  years  in  this  city  :  be  has  devoted 
the  utmost  care  to  u  complete  revision  of  Mr.  Arnold's  Woks,  has  corrected  several  errors  of 
inadvertence  or  otherwise,  has  reananged  and  improved  various  matters  in  the  early  volumes 
of  the  series,  and  has  attended  most  diligently  to  the  accurate  printing  and  mechanical  execution 
of  the  whole.  We  anticipate  most  confidently  the  speedy  adoption  of  these  works  in  our  Schools 
and  Colleges. 


THE 


LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE 


'4 

THOMAS  ARNOLD,  D.D., 

K 
LATE    HEAD-MASTER    OF    RUGBY    SCHOOL, 
AND 
REGIUS     PROFESSOR    OF    MODERN     HISTORY    IN     THE     UNIVERSITY    OF   OXFORD. 


BY 

ARTHUK  PENRHYN  STANLEY,  M.A., 

FELLOW  AND  TUTOR  OF  UNIVERSITY  COLLEGE,   OXFORD. 

SECOND  AMERICAN  EDITION, 

REPRINTED    ENTIRE    FROM    THE    LAST    LONDON    EDITION 

TWO  VOLUMES  COMPLETE  IN  ONE. 


NEW- YORK: 
D.  APPLETON  &  COMPANY,  200  BROADWAY. 

PHILADELPHIA: 
GEO.  S.  APPLETON,  148  CHESNUT-ST. 

MDCCCXLVI. 


PKEFACE. 


The  sources  from  which  this  work  has  been  drawn  have  ne- 
cessarily been  exceedingly  various.  It  was  in  fact  originally 
intended  that  the  several  parts  should  have  been  supplied 
by  different  writers,  as  in  the  instance  of  the  valuable  contri- 
bution which,  in  addition  to  his  kind  assistance  throughout, 
has  been  furnished  to  the  earlier  part  by  Mr.  Justice  Cole- 
ridge ;  and  although,  in  its  present  shape,  the  responsibility 
of  arranging  and  executing  it  has  fallen  upon  one  person,  yet 
it  should  still  be  clearly  understood  how  largely  I  have  avail- 
ed myself  of  the  aid  of  others,  in  order  to  supply  the  defects 
of  my  own  personal  knowledge  of  Dr.  Arnold's  life  and 
character,  which  was  confined  to  the  intercourse  I  enjoyed 
with  him,  first  as  his  pupil  at  Rugby,  from  1829  to  1834, 
and  thenceforward,  on  more  familiar  terms,  to  the  end  of 
his  life. 

To  his  family,  I  feel  that  the  fewest  words  will  best  ex- 
press my  sense,  both  of  the  confidence  which  they  reposed 
in  me  by  intrusting  to  my  care  so  precious  a  charge,  and  of 
the  manifold  kindness  with  which  they  have  assisted  me,  as 
none  others  could.  To  the  many  attached  friends  of  his 
earlier  years,  the  occurrence  of  whose  names  in  the  following 
pages  makes  it  unnecessary  to  mention  them  more  particu- 


Q  PREFACE. 

larly  here,  I  would  also  take  this  opportunity  of  expressing 
my  deep  obligations,  not  only  for  the  readiness  with  which 
they  have  given  me  access  to  all  letters  and  information  that 
I  could  require,  but  still  more  for  the  active  interest  which 
they  have  taken  in  lightening  my  responsibility  and  labour, 
and  for  the  careful  and  most  valuable  criticism  to  which 
some  of  them  have  allowed  me  to  subject  the  whole  or  the 
greater  part  of  this  work.  Lastly,  his  pupils  will  perceive 
the  unsparing  use  I  have  made  of  their  numerous  contribu- 
tions. I  had  at  one  time  thought  of  indicating  the  various 
distinct  authorities  from  which  the  chapter  on  his  "  School 
Life  at  Rugby"  has  been  compiled,  but  I  found  that  this 
would  be  impracticable.  The  names  of  some  of  those  who 
have  most  aided  me  will  be  found  in  the  Correspondence. 
To  those  many  others,  who  are  not  there  mentioned — and 
may  I  here  be  allowed  more  especially  to  name  my  younger 
schoolfellows,  with  whom  I  have  become  acquainted  chiefly 
through  the  means  of  this  work,  and  whose  recollections, 
as  being  the  most  recent  and  the  most  lively,  have  been 
amongst  the  most  valuable  that  I  have  received — I  would 
here  express  my  warmest  thanks  for  the  more  than  assistance 
which  they  have  rendered  me.  Great  as  has  been  the 
anxiety  and  difficulty  of  this  undertaking,  it  has  been 
relieved  by  nothing  so  much  as  the  assurance  which  I 
have  received  through  their  co-operation,  that  I  was  not 
mistaken  in  the  estimate  I  had  formed  of  our  common 
friend  and  master,  and  that  the  influence  of  his  teaching 
and  example  continues  and  will  continue  to  produce  the 
fruits  which  he  would  most  have  desired-to  see. 

The  Correspondence  has  been  selected  from  the  mass 
of  letters  preserved,  in  many  cases,  in  almost  unbroken 
series  from  first  to  last.  One  large  class — those  to  the 
parents  of  his  pupils — I  have  been  unable  to  procure,  and 
possiblv  they  could  not  have  been  made  available  for  the 
present  work.     Another  numerous  body  of  letters — those 


PREFACE.  1 

which  were  addressed  to  scientific  or  literary  men  on  ques- 
tions connected  with  his  edition  of  Thucydides  or  his  His- 
tory,— I  have  omitted,  partly  as  thinking  them  too  minute 
to  occupy  space  wanted  for  subjects  of  more  general  im- 
portance ;  partly  because  their  substance  or  their  results 
have  for  the  most  part  been  incorporated  into  his  published 
works.  To  those  which  appear  in  the  present  collection, 
something  of  a  fragmentary  character  has  been  imparted 
by  the  necessary  omission,  wherever  it  was  possible,  of 
repetitions,  such  as  must  necessarily  occur  in  letters 
written  to  different  persons  at  the  same  time,-r-of  allusions 
which  would  have  been  painful  to  living  individuals, — of 
domestic  details,  which,  however  characteristic,  could  not 
have  been  published  without  a  greater  infringement  on  pri- 
vacy than  is  yet  possible, — of  passages  which,  without 
further  explanation  than  could  be  given,  would  certainly 
have  been  misunderstood.  Still  enough  remains  to  give  in 
his  own  words,  and  in  his  own  manner,  what  he  thought 
and  felt  on  the  subjects  of  most  interest  to  him.  And 
though  the  mode  of  expression  must  be  judged  by  the  rela- 
tion in  which  he  stood  to  those  whom  he  addressed,  and 
with  the  usual  and  just  allowance  for  the  familiarity  and 
unreservedness  of  epistolary  intercourse,  yet,  on  the  whole, 
the  Letters  represent  (except  where  they  correct  themselves) 
what  those  who  knew  him  best  believe  to  have  been  his 
deliberate  convictions  and  his  habitual  feelings. 

The  object  of  the  Narrative  has  been  to  state  so  much 
as  would  enable  the  reader  to  enter  upon  the  Letters  with  a 
correct  understanding  of  their  writer  in  his  different  periods 
of  life,  and  his  different  sphere  of  action.  In  all  cases 
where  it  was  possible,  his  opinions  and  plans  have  been 
given  in  his  own  words,  and  in  no  case,  whether  in  speaking 
of  what  he  did  or  intended  to  do,  from  mere  conjecture  of 
my  own  or  of  any  one  else.  Wherever  the  narrative  has 
gone  into  greater  detail,  as  in  the  chapter  on  his  "  School 


8  PREFACE. 

Life  at  Rugby,"  it  has  been  where  the  Letters  were  com- 
paratively silent,  and  where  details  alone  would  give  to  those 
who  were  most  concerned  a  true  representation  of  his 
views  and  actions. 

In  conclusion,  it  will  be  obvious  that  to  have  mixed  up 
any  judgment  of  my  own,  either  of  praise  or  censure,  with 
the  facts  or  statements  contained  in  this  work,  would  have 
been  wholly  irrelevant.  The  only  question  which  I  have 
allowed  myself  to  ask  in  each  particular  act  or  opinion  that 
has  come  before  me,  has  not  been  whether  I  approved  or 
disapproved  of  it,  but  whether  it  was  characteristic  of  him. 
To  have  assumed  the  office  of  a  judge,  in  addition  to  that 
of  a  narrator  or  editor,  would  have  increased  the  responsi- 
bility, already  great,  a  hundredfold  ;  and  in  the  present  case, 
the  vast  importance  of  many  of  the  questions  discussed — 
the  insufficient  time  and  knowledge  which  I  had  at  com- 
mand— the  almost  filial  relation  in  which  I  stood  towards 
him — would  have  rendered  it  absolutely  impossible,  even 
had  it  hot  been  effectually  precluded  by  the  nature  of  the 
work  itself.  For  similar  reasons,  I  have  abstained  from  giv- 
ing any  formal  account  of  his  general  character.  He  was 
one  of  a  class  whose  whole  being,  intellectual,  moral,  and 
spiritual,  is  like  the  cloud  of  the  poet, 

"  Which  moveth  altogether,  if  it  move  at  all," 

and  whose  character,  therefore,  is  far  better  expressed  by 
their  own  words  and  deeds,  than  by  the  representation  of 
others.  Lastly,  I  would  also  hope  that  the  plan,  which  I 
have  thus  endeavoured  to  follow,  will  in  some  measure  com- 
pensate for  the  many  deficiencies,  which  I  have  vainly  en- 
deavoured to  remedy  in  the  execution  of  the  task  which  I 
have  undertaken.  Some,  indeed,  there  must  be,  who  will 
painfully  feel  the  contrast,  which  probably  always  exists  in 
the  case  of  any  remarkable  man,  between  the  image  of  his 
inner  life,  as  it  was  known  to  those  nearest  and  dearest  to 
him,  and  the  outward  image  of  a  written  biography,  which 


PREFACE.  g 

can  rarely  be  more  than  a  faint  shadow  of  what  they 
cherish  in  their  own  recollections — the  one  representing  what 
he  was — the  other  only  what  he  thought  and  did  ;  the  one 
formed  in  the  atmosphere  which  he  had  himself  created, — the 
other  necessarily  accommodating  itself  to  the  public  opinion 
to  which  it  is  mainly  addressed.  But  even  to  these — and 
much  more  to  readers  in  general — it  is  my  satisfaction  to 
reflect  that  any  untrue  or  imperfect  impression  of  his 
thoughts  and  feelings  which  may  be  gathered  from  my  ac- 
count of  them  will  be  sufficiently  corrected  by  his  own  rep- 
resentation of  them  in  his  Letters,  and  that  the  attention 
will  not  be  diverted  by  any  extraneous  comments  or  infer- 
ences from  the  [lessons  which  will  be  best  learned  from  [the 
mere  record  itself  of  his  life  and  teaching. 

May  14th,  1844. 
University  College,  Oxford. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EARLY    LIFE    AND    EDUCATION. 

Page 
Birth. — Education  at  Warminster  and  Winchester. — Character  and  pursuits  as  a 
boy. — Associations  of  his  childhood  in  after  life. — Letter  from  Mr.  Justice 
Coleridge. — Education  at  Oxford. — Corpus  Society. — Early  friends  — Tucker. — 
Cornish. — Dyson. — Keble, — Pursuits. — Attic  Society. — Religious  doubts  ou  his 
ordination  ........  25 

CHAPTER  II. 

LIFE    AT    LALEUAM. 

Election  at  Oriel. — Fellows  of  Oriel. — Marriage  and  settlement  at  Laleham. — For- 
mation of  his  religious  character  and  belief. — Early  objects  of  ambition. — Love  for 
Laleham. — Occupations  and  views  as  private  tutor. — Letter  from  Mr.  Price. — 
General  pursuits. — Lexicon  and  edition  of  Thucydides. — Articles  on  Roman  His- 
tory in  Encyclopaedia  Metropolitana. — First  acquaintance  with  Niebuhr's  history, 
and  with  German  literature. — First  visit  to  Rome,  and  friendship  with  Chevalier 
Bunsen. — Formation  of  his  views  on  social  and  theological  subjects. — Independent 
views. — First  volume  of  Sermons. — Election  to  the  Head-mastership  of  Rugby. — 
Prediction  of  Dr.  Hawkins  .  .  .  .  .  .  .39 

LETTERS. 

1.  To.  J.  T.  Coleridge,  Esq.     Choice  of  a  profession         .             .             .  .55 

2.  To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.     Leaving  Oxford              .             .             .             .  .56 

3.  To  Rev.  F.  C.  Blackstone.     Incapacity  for  the  profession  of  a  Schoolmaster  56 

4.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.     Oxford  Friends. — Religious  state              .              .  .57 

5.  To  J.  T.  Coleridge,  Esq.     Occupations  at  Laleham      .             .             .  .58 

6.  To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.     Winter  at  Fledborough               .          ' .             .  .59 

7.  To  the  same.     Interest  in  India. — Pupijs. — Religious  state       .             .  .60 

8.  To  the  same.     Death  of  his  Brother. — Domestic  life  and  interests  at  Laleham. 

— Pupils. — Desire  of  personal  intercourse  with  his  friends     .  .  .61 

9.  To  J.  T.  Coleridge,  Esq.     On  his  style  .  .    '        .  .  .63 

10.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.     Ecclesiastical  History. — State  of  the  religious  world. — 

Ireland  .........     63 

11.  To  J.  T.  Coleridge.     Christian  year. — Roman  History  .  .  .64 


22  CONTENTS. 

12.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.     Pupils. — Intercourse  with  poor. — Tour  in  Scotland  and 

the  Lakes. — West  Indian  slavery     .  .  .  .  .  .64 

13.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     Niebuhr.— Pupils         .  .  .  .  .65 

14.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.      Aristotle's  Politics. — Prophecy. — Daniel. — English  Re- 

formation     .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .65 

15.  To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.     Tour  in  Italy. — Contrast  of  lower  orders  in  England  and 

Italy  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .66 

16.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.     Tour  in  Italy. — Quarterly  Review  .  .  .67 

17.  To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.     Prevalence  of  intellectual  activity  united  with  moral 

depravity. — Roman  Catholicism        .  .  .  .  .  .67 

18.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.     Church  Reform  .  .  .  .  .68 

19.  To  Rev.  E.  Hawkins.     Edition  of  Thucydides  .  .  .  .68 

20.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.     Pain  of  having  given  offence  by  opinions  on  inspiration       69 

21.  To  Rev.  E.  Hawkins.     Doubts  about  standing  for  the  Head-mastership  of  Rug- 

by.— Expulsion  at  public  schools        .             .             .             .            .  .70 

22.  To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.     Views  in  offering  himself  as  a  candidate  for  Rugby  .     70 

23.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.     Election  at  Rugby           .             .             .             .  .71 

24.  To  Rev.  E.  Hawkins.     Election  at  Rugby      -.             .             .             .  .71 

25.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.     Intentions  at  Rugby.     Church  Reform    .             .  .71 

26.  To  Rev.  F.  C.  Blackstone.     Hopes  for  Rugby. —Church  and  State. — Reform  72 

27.  To  Augustus  Hare,  Esq.     Rome. — Bunsen. — "  Guesses  at  Truth." — Bohemia       73 

28.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker. — Protest  against  supposed  worldliness        .             .  .73 

29.  To  J.  T.  Coleridge,  Esq.    Intercourse  with  friends. — Dyson. — Love  for  Laleham     74 

30.  To  Rev.  F.  C.  Blackstone.     Laleham  and  Rugby         .             .             .  .74 

31.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     First  volume  of  Sermons. — Leaving  Laleham  .  .     75 

32.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.     Laleham  and  Rugby. — First  volume  of  Sermons  .     75 

33.  To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.     Settlement  at  Rugby     .             .             .             .  .76 

CHAPTER   III. 

SCHOOL    LIFE    AT    RUGBY. 

State  of  opinion  on  English  Public  Schools. — His  qualifications  for  the  situation  of 
Head-master  of  Rugby. — Difficulties. — Changes. — Fixed  principles  of  education. 
— His  relation  to  the  public. — To  the  trustees. — To  the  assistant  masters. — To 
the  school. — His  views  of  Christianizing  public  schools. — Peculiarity  of  public 
schools. — General  mode  of  dealing  with  it.  I.  Discipline  in  the  school.  1.  Pun- 
ishments. 2.  Fagging. — Influence  of  the  Sixth  Form.  3.  Removal  of  boys. — 
II.  Instruction. — Religious  spirit. — Stimulus  to  exertion. — Respect  for  industry. — 
View  of  .academical  distinctions.  1.  Importance  of  classics.  2.  Modern  History, 
modern  languages,  and  mathematics.  3.  Lessons  in  the  Sixth  Form.  4.  Gene- 
ral effect  of  his  intellectual  teaching. — III.  The  scihool  chapel. — Services. — Com- 
munion.— Confirmation. — Sermons — IV.  Personal  intercourse  with  the  boarders 
in  his  own  house,  and  with  his  scholars  generally. — V.  General  results  of  his 
head-mastership  at  Rugby. — Letter  from  Dr.  Moberly      .  .  .  .77 

CHAPTER  IV. 

»  GENERAL    LIFE    AT    RUGBY. 

Intellectual  advance  on  coming  to  Rugby. — His  views  and  writings. — I.  Practical 
element. — Interest  in  public  and  national  life. — Vehement  language  on  political 
and  ecclesiastical  subjects. — Conservatism. — Jacobinism. — Popular  principles. — 


CONTENTS. 


13 


Liberal  principles. — II.  Speculative  element. — Design  of  three  great  works.  1. 
History  of  Rome.  2.  Commentary  on  the  Scriptures.  3.  "  Christian  Politics,"  or 
"  Church  and  State." — Private  life  at  Rugby. — Domestic  circle. — Friendships. — 
Intercourse  with  the  poor. — Life  at  Fox  How      .....  128 

CHAPTER  V. 

LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE,  AUGUST  1828  TO  AUGUST  1830. 

Hopeful  view. — First  volume  of  his  edition  of  Thucydides. — Essay  on  the  social 
progress  of  States. — Pamphlet  on  "  the  Christian  duty  of  conceding  the  Roman 
Catholic  claims "  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .156 


7. 

[8. 

9, 

10. 
11. 

12. 
13. 
14 

15. 

1G. 
17. 

58. 
19. 
-20. 


21 


To  J.  T.  Coleridge,  Esq.     Entrance  on  his  work  at  Rugby 

To  Rev.  C.  Blackstone.     First  impressions  of  Rugby    .  . 

To  the  same.     Differences  of  opinion    ...... 

To  Mrs.  Evelyn,  (on  the  death  of  her  husband)  .... 

To  Rev.  C.  Hare.  "  Defence  of  Niebuhr." — Pamphlet  "  On  Roman  Catholic 
Claims." — Estimate  of  the  past. — Spirit  of  Chivalry 

To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.  Pamphlet  "  On  Roman  Catholic  Claims." — Toryism. — 
Ignorance  of  the  Clergy        .  ...... 

To  the  Parent  of  a  pupil  holding  Unitarian  opinions     .... 

To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.     Domestic  happiness. — Pamphlet. — Schism 

To  Rev.  F.  C.  Blackstone.  Idolatry,  how  far  applicable  to  the  Church  of 
Rome  ......... 

To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.     Thoughts  of  emigration  to  Australia 

To  J.  T.  Coleridge,  Esq.  Death  of  his  father-in-law. — School. — Latin  verse 
and  prose. — Thucydides. — Pamphlet  .  .  .  . 

To  Rev.  H.  Jenkyns.     Thucydides. — True  principles  of  Philology 

To  J.  T.  Coleridge,  Esq.     Libel  in  John  Bull. — Respect  for  Episcopacy 

To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     On  the  same  ...... 

To  F.  Hartwell,  Esq.     Interest  in  school  ..... 

To  T.  F.  Ellis,  Esq.     Roman  History  .  .  . 

To  the  same.     On  the  same      ....... 

To  the  same     ......... 

To  the  same     .  .  .  .  ... 

To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.  School.— French  Revolution  of  1830.— Guizot. — Nie- 
buhr.— Grande  Chartreuse. — Venice. — Padua. — Tyrol. — Old  Testament. — 
School  Sermons        ........ 

To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.  Church,  in  what  sense  a  Society. — French  Revolution 
of  1830.— Belgian  Revolution  ...... 


157 
158 
158 
159. 

160 

161 
162 
163 

164 
165 

165 
167 
167 
167 
168 
168 
169 
169 
170 


170 


172 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LIFE   AND   CORRESPONDENCE,   SEPTEMBER    1830    TO    DECEMBER    1832. 

Alarm  at  the  social  condition  of  the  lower  orders  in  England. — Wish  to  rouse  the 
Clergy. — Attempts  to  influence  the  Useful  Knowledge  Society. — Establishment  of 
the  "  Englishman's  Register." — Thirteen  letters  in  the  "  Sheffield  Courant."— 
Want  of  sympathy. — Evangelical  party. — Wish  for  Commentary  on  Old  Testa- 
ment.— Second  volume  of  Sermons,  with  Essay  on  Interpretation  of  Scripture     .  174 


14 


CONTENTS. 


22.  To  J.  T.  Coleridge,  Esq.     Want  of  sympathy. — Public  affairs. — False  reports 

of  his  proselytizing  his  pupils. — Conservatism  ....   177 

23.  To  Susannah  Arnold.     Public  affairs. — Duty  of  the  Clergy. — State  of  the  lower 

orders. — Record  Newspaper  ......  179 

24.  To  Rev.  Julius  Hare     .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .180 

25.  To  Rev.  Augustus  Hare.     Public  affairs. — Old  Testament  Prophets. — St.  Paul 

and  St.  James. — Want  of  a  Magazine  for  the  poor  J.  .  .  .  180 

26.  To  Rev.  H.  Massingbird.     Liberal  Party  and  Reform  ....  181 

27.  To  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin..   Proposal  of  setting  up  a  newspaper       .  .  181 

28.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Death  of  Niebuhr. — Italy. — First  news  of  the  French 

Revolution. — Interview  with  Niebuhr. — Church  Reform,  and  Reform  Bill. — 
Dread  of  warlike  spirit  in  France      .  .  .  .  .  .  1 82 

29.  To  John  Ward,  Esq.     Englishman's  Register. — Aristocracy. — Reform  Bill. — 

National  debt. — Monopolies. — Corn  Laws. — Political  excitement     .  .  184 

30.  To  Susannah  Arnold.     Liberal  Conservatives  .....  185 

31.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     Englishman's  Register— Thucydides  .  .  .186 
32:  To  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.     Failure  of  "  Englishman's  Register"     .             .  186 

33.  To  W.  Tooke,  Esq.     Refusal  of  an  offer  of  preferment. — Useful  Knowledge 

Society. — "  Cottage  Evenings  "         ......  187 

34.  To  Mrs.  Fletcher.     On  the  death  of  her  son      .  .  .  .  .188 

35.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Sheffield  Courant  Letters       .  .  .  188 

36.  To  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.     The  same. — Pestilences  .  .  .  189 

37.  To  Rev.  F.  C.  Blackstone.     Irvingism. — Gift  of  tongues. — Coming  of"  the  day 

of  the  Lord." — Whigs  and  Tories     ......  189 

38.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     Contrast  of  private  happiness  with  public  distress. — 

Cholera. — Work  on  the  Evidences    ......  190 

39.  To  Rev.  J.  C.  Hare.     Philological  Museum. — Religion  and  ttoXitikyj     .  .  191 

40.  To  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.     Farewell  on  his  leaving  Oxford. — Danger  of 

public  schools. — Church  reform  ......  191 

41.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     Essay  on  Interpretation  of  Scripture. — Right  use  of  the 

Second  Commandment         .......  192 

42.  To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.     Rydal. — Intercourse  with  friends. — Archbishop  Whate- 

ly.— Essay    .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .192 

43.  To  the  same.     On  the  death  of  a  child  .....  193- 

44.  To  the  Lady  F.  Egerton.     On  the  conversion  of  an  Atheist      .  .  .  193 

45.  To  the-same.     On  the  same  .  .  .  :  .  .  194 

46.  To  J.  T.  Coleridge,  Esq.    Rydal. — Newspapers. — Sheffield  Courant. — School 

Composition  ........  195 

47.  To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.     Rugby  Life. — Penny  Magazine  .  .  .  196 

48.  To  Rev.  J.  E.  Tyler.     Society  for  the  Promotion  of  Christian  Knowledge. — 

Usefulness  of  miscellaneous  information  for  the  people  .  .  .  196 

49.  To  J.  Ward,  Esq.     Domestic   Life. — Intercourse  with  poor. — Useful  Know- 

ledge Society  ........  197 

50.  To  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.     Wish  for  a  Commentary  on  the  Bible  .  19 

51.  To  Rev.  J.  E.  Tyler.     Collection  of  Sermons  .  .  .  .  1  ^ 

52.  To  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.      Idea  of  a  Commentary  without  Sectarianism 

— Death  of  his  sister  Susannah  ......  199 

53.  To  J.  T.  Coleridge,  Esq.     Family  Sickness.— Friendship         .  .  .201 


CONTENTS.  15 

CHAPTER  VII. 

LIFE   AND    CORRESPONDENCE,  JANUARY    1833    TO    SEPTEMBER    1835. 

Fears  for  the  Church  Establishment. — Pamphlet  on  the  "  Principles  of  Church 
Reform. — Outcry  occasioned  by  it. — Settlement  of  his  own  views. — Preface  to 
third  volume  of  Thucydides. — Fragments  on  "  the  State  and  the  Church." — 
Third  Volume  of  Sermons. — Purchase  of  Fox  How. — Return  to  Roman  Histo- 
ry.— Influence  over  his  Scholars  ......  203 


54.  To  Rev.  J.  Hearn.     New  Year's  Day  in  Westmoreland. — Intolerance  .  209 

55.  t  To  W.   K.  Hamilton,  Esq.1    Rome,  and  the  towns  of  Italy, — Gloomy 

prospects      .  ......  209 

56.  To  the.  Archbishop  of  Dublin.     Pamphlet  on  Church  Reform. — Reasons  for 

writing  it    .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  210 

57.  To  the  same.     Reasons  for  his  coming  to  Westmoreland. — Commentary. — 

Magazine  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  210 

58.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.     Farewell  on  his  going  to  India. — Recollections  of  Ox- 

ford.— Gloomy  views  of  Europe  and  England         .  .  .  .211 

59.  To  an  old  pupil,  (a.)     Advice  on  living  in  uncongenial  society  .  .  212 

60.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Remonstrance  against  a  charge  of  haste  and  ignor- 

ance in  his  writings  .......  212 

61.  To  the  same  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .213 

62.  To  W.  Smith,  Esq.     Unitarians. — In  what  sense  Christians  .  .  .  214 

63.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Political  opinions. — Jacobinism. — Economistes. — To- 

ryism.— Historical  Liberty. — Reform  Bill. — Articles  of  Liturgy       .  .  215 

64.  To  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.     Calumnies      .....  217 

65.  To  Rev.  J.  Hearn.     False  view  of  what  is  Christian  doctrine  .  .  217 

66.  To  Lady  Cavan.     The  right  use  of  the  Fourth  Commandment  .  .  218 

67.  To  J.  T.  Coleridge,  Esq.     Description  of  Fox  How     .  .  .  .219 

68.  To  a  pupil.     Want  of  devotion  and  reverence  ....  219 

69.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.    His  birthday.— Pamphlet.— Confirmation.— Cricket- 

matches      ......  ~.  .  .  220 

70.  To.  Rev.  Augustus  Hare.     Pamphlet. — Not  latittfdinarian     .  .  .  221 

71.  To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.     The  same. — Westmoreland  and  Warwickshire  .  221 

72.  To  Rev.  J.  C.  Hare.     Bunsen. — Third  Volume  of  Niebuhr. — Roman  His- 

tory .........  222 

73.  To  Mr.  Sergeant  Coleridge.     Birth  of  his  youngest  daughter. — Bunsen's  let- 

ters.— Political  excitement. — Whately. — Oxford  Party. — Church  of  Eng- 
land.—Christ  the  only  object  of  religious  affection. — Church  and  State. — 
School. — Allan  Bank. — Teaching  his  Daughters     .  .  .  .222 

74.  To  Jacob  Abbott.     Interest  in  America. — Young  Christian. — Unitarianism  .  225 

75.  To  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.     Translation  of  the  New  Testament. — Grounds 

of  Roman  Catholic  Relief  Act. — High  Churchmen  .  .  .225 

76.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     Health.— Confession.— Faith.— Uncertainty  of  Life. 

— Death  of  his  Friends  Lowe  and  Augustus  Hare  .  .  .226 

77.  To  Rev.  F.  C.  Blackstone.    Fixing  of  views. — Mountain  scenery.— School  .  227 

1  The  names  of  his  Laleham  pupils  in  this  table  of  Contents  are  marked  by  an  f. 


16  CONTENTS. 

78.  To  Rev.  J.  C.  Hare.    On  the  death  of  Augustus  Hare  .  .  .228 

79.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Tracts  for  the  Times. — Episcopacy  not  essential       .  228 

80.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     Abstract  of  his  work  on  the  Identity  of  Church  and 

State 229 

81.  To  Rev.  J.  C.  Hare.     Declaration  for  the  admission  of  Dissenters  to  the  Uni- 

versities.— Unitarians. — Petition  against  the  Jew  Bill  .  .  .  230 

82.  *  To  H.  Balston,  Esq.1     Advice  on  Composition         ....  230 

83.  To  W.  Empson,  Esq.     Irish  Establishment. — Colleges  and  halls        .  .  231 

84.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Longley.     False  hopes  of  reaction. — School. — Pupils  in  West- 

moreland    .........  232 

85.  To  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.     Respect  for  Episcopacy. — Church  and  State. 

— Sermons  on  the  Evidences. — Mechanics'  Institute  .  .  .  232 

86.  To  a  former  landlord.     Advice  under  painful  illness. — Forgiveness  of  injuries    233 

87.  To  Mrs.  Delafield.     On  her  77th  birthday      .  .  .  .  .234 

88.  To   Chevalier  Bunsen.      Roman  History. — Illyrians. — Physical    History. — 

Trades'   Unions.  —  Letters  on  Christian  Sacrifice.  —  Abbott's   Works. — 
America     .........  234 

89.  To  an  old  pupil,  (a.)8     Right  use  of  University  distinctions. — Reserve  .  236 

90.  To  T.  F.  Ellis,  Esq.     Course  of  study  desirable  for  Orders      .  .  .  236 

91.  *  To  H.  Highton,  Esq.     Rugby  Magazine      .  .  .  .  -237 

92.  To  Rev.  J.  Hearn.     New  Poor  Law.— Name  of  Christ  .  .  .238 

93.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     On  his  elevation  to  the  Bench. — Church  govern- 

ment.— Wordsworth. — Coleridge's  "  Letters  on  Inspiration"  .  .  238 

94.  To  Rev.  J.  C.  Hare.     Plan  of  a  theological  review     ....  239 

95.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Longley.     Fifth  Form. — Number  of  the  school — School-gram- 

mar.— Expulsion. — Entrance. — Examination  ....  239 

96.  To  Rev.  F.  C.  Blackstone.     Influence  over  pupils. — Church  government        .  241 

97.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Want  of  Sympathy. — rroXinrin. — Hymn-book. — High 

Church   party.— Evangelicals. — Whigs. — Philosophy  of  parties. — Interest 

in  school. — Hebrew  .  .  .  .  •  •  .  241 

98.  *  To  C.  J.  Vaughan,  Esq.     Interest  in  old  pupils. — Advice  to  learn  German. 

— Advice  for  reading  .......  243 

99.  *  To  A.  P.  Stanley,  Esq.     Oxford. — Popular  and  liberal  principles. — Tory  re- 

action ......... 

100.  To  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.     Origin  of  Civilization. — Influence  of  Greek 

philosophy. — Odium  .......  245 

101.  To  an  old  pupil,  (a.)     Value  of  veneration. — Calumnies         .  .  .  246 

102.  To  Sir  T.  S.  Pasley,  Bart.     Comparative  advantages  of  private  and  public  ed- 

ucation      .  .  .  .  •  •  •  247 

103.  t  To  H.  Strickland,  Esq.     Advice  for  a  tour  in  Asia  Minor    .  .  .  248 

104.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Calumnies. — Example  of  Burnet. — Aristophanes. 

— Pindar. — Homer. — Pupils. — Oxford  and  the  London  University  .  .  249 

105.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Heads  of  houses  and  convocation. — Clergy  and  Dis- 

senters       .........  250 

106.  To  a  person  distressed  by  skeptical  doubts       .....  250 

107.  *  To  H.  Hatch,  Esq.     Consumption  .....  252 


1  The  names  of  hia  former  Rugby  pupils,  where  not  otherwise  specified,  aro  marked  with  an  *. 
2  The  letters  of  the  alphabet  thus  affixed  arc  merely  for  the  sake  of  distinguishing  between  the  sev- 
eral pupils  so  addressed. 


244 


CONTENTS.  17 

108.  To  Rev.  F.  C.  Blackstone.     Want  of  leisure. — Defects  in  existing  books. — 

Liberty  and  Toryism  .......  252 

109.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Separation  from  friends  ....  253 

110.  *  To  C.  J.  Vaughan,  Esq.     Hatch. — Intercourse  with  poor. — Phaedo  of  Plato. 

— Livy        .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .254 

111.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Polybius. — Hannibal's  passage. — Hebrew       .  .  254 

112.  *  To  J.  P.  Gell,  Esq.     Interest'in  former  pupils  .  .  .  .255 

113.  *  To  A.  P.  Stanley,  Esq.     Hatch.— Pupils  .  .  .  .256 

114.  To  an  old  pupil  (b.)     Health. — Exercise        .....  256 

115.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Rugby  in  the  holidays. — Rugby  Magazine  — 

Pupils.— Phaedo.— Coleridge's  Table  Talk  .  .  .  .256 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

LIFE    AND    CORRESPONDENCE,    SEPTEMBER    1835    TO    NOVEMBER    1838. 

(1.)  Contest  with  the  Oxford  school  of  theology. — Change  of  feeling  towards  the 
High  Church  party. — Oxford  school. — Hampden  controversy. — Article  in  the 
Edinburgh  Review. — (2.)  Contest  in  the  London  University. — Endeavour  to 
alter  the  Examination  in  Arts. — Failure. — Retirement  from  the  Senate    .  .  258 

LETTERS. 

116.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Acceptance  of  a  Fellowship  in  the  London  Uni- 

versity.— Idea  of  a  Church  .......  265 

117.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     The  same. — Idea  of  an  Establishment  .  .  266 

118.  To  Rev.  F.  C.  Blackstone.     Irvingism. — Miraculous  gifts. — True  develope- 

ment  of  Christianity  ..  .  .     '  .  .  .  267 

119.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Conservatism  and  Toryism  .  .  .  267 

120.  To  W.  Empson,  Esq.     Party  feeling.— Ireland  .  .  .  .268 

121.  To    Chevalier  Bunsen.     Roman  History. — Niebuhr. — Etruscan   and  Oscan 

languages. — Pastoral  Epistles  ......  269 

122.  To  J.  C.  Piatt,  Esq.     Lieber  on  Education. — London  University. — "  Religion 

and  Politics." — Roman  History       ......  269 

123.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Interest  in  school. — Southey. — Coleridge  .  270 

124.  *  To  J.  C.  Vaughan,  Esq.     Congratulations  on  success  at  Cambridge  .  271 

125.  To  an  old  Pupil  (b.)     Failure  in  successes  at  Oxford. — Hampden  controversy  272 

126.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     Hampden  controversy  .  .  .  .273 

127.  The  same.     The  same  .  .  .'  .  .  .  .273 

128.  To  Rev.  J.  Hearn.     Youth  and  old  age. — Dr.  Hampden  and  the  Reformers      273 

129.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     Petition  against  the  Jew  Bill.— Ireland  .  .  274 

130.  To  the   Archbishop   of  Dublin.     Wish   to   circulate   "  Church   of  England 

Tracts." — Church   authority. — Jew   Bill. — Pamphlet   on  Roman   Catholic 
Claims         .........  275 

131.  To  Sir  T.  S.  Pasley,  Bart.     Reality    .  .  .  .  .  "276 

132.  *  To  Dr.  Greenhill.     Medicine.— Physical  science       .  .  .  276 

133.  To  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.     The  Jew  Bill. — Ireland. — Pastoral  Epistles. — 

Idolatry  and  Unitarianism. — Wish  for  the  Chair  of  Theology  at  Oxford. — 
Love  for  Rugby      ........  277 

134.  *  To  A.  P.  Stanley,  Esq.     Fanaticism.— Oxford  Tracts  .  .  .279 

135.  To  the  Earl  of  Howe.     Authorship  of  the  Edinburgh  Review  .  •  280 

136.  To  the  same.     On  the  same    .  .  .  .  .  •  -280 

137.  To  the  same.     On  the  same  .  .  .  .  .  •  -281 

2 


18  CONTENTS. 

138.  To  Mrs.  Buckland.     Visit  to  the  Isle  of  Wight. — Fox  How. — Winchester. — 

Rugby         .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .281 

139.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Marriage  Act  .  .  ...  .  282 

140.  To  Sir  J.  Franklin,  Bart.     Colonial  Society. — Convicts. — Missionary  spirit    .  282 

141.  To  Rev.  J.  Hearn.     Rest. — Family  circle. — Conservatism      .  .  .  283 

142.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Fox  How. — Mountains. — Latin  verse. — Teaching 

Shakspeare  to  Greeks. — Barante     ......  284 

143.  *  To  A.  P.  Stanley,  Esq.     Oxford  in  autumn. — Utilitarianism. — Faith  and 

reason  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  285 

144.  To  Sir  T.  S.  Pasley,  Bart.    Administration  of  the  Sacraments  .  .  286 

145.  *  To  Dr.  Greenhill.    Supposed  dangers  of  study  of  Medicine  .  .  .  287 

146.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     Coleridge's  Literary  Remains  .  .  .288 

147.  To  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.     Neutrality. — Rest. — Celtic  languages  .  288 

148.  *  To  W.  C.  Lake,  Esq.    Germany. — Excess  in  division  of  labour. — Institutes 

of  Gaius. — Edition  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles. — Priesthood  .  .  .  289 

149.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Illness. — Death  of  his  aunt. — Church  and  Priesthood  290 

150.  To  J.  C.  Piatt,  Esq.     New  Poor  Law.— Reactions     .  .  .  .291 

151.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     English  divines. — Pilgrim's  Progress        .  .  292 

152.  To  Sir  T.  S.  Pasley,  Bart.     Christianity  and  the  Church.— Succession  .  293 

153.  To  J.  C.  Piatt,  Esq.     Church  rates. — "  Impartiality"  in  religious  matters       .  294 

154.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Fox  How  in  winter. — Plan  of  Roman  History. — 

Study  and  practice  of  Law. — Medicine. — Oxford    ....  295 

155.  To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.     Fox  How.— Oxford.— Corpus  .  .  .296 

156.  To  Rev.  J.  Hearn.     Consent  of  antiquity. — Eucharist  .  .  .  297 

157.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     Grammars 298 

158.  To  Crabbe  Robinson,  Esq.     London  University. — Degree  in  Arts. — Unitari- 

ans.— Examiners     ........  299 

159.  To  Sir  S.  T.  Pasley,  Bart.     Oxford.— Abbott's  "  Way  to  do  Good."— Duke  of 

Wellington's  Dispatches. — Weather  .....  300 

160.  To  an  old  Pupil  (c).     Religious  duty  of  cultivating  the  intellect  .  .  301 

161.  To  Bishop  Otter.     London  University. — Charter. — Different  plans     .  .  302 

162.  To  Rev.  H.  Hill.     Thucydides.— Rome.— Ordination  .  .  .304 

163.  *  To  C.  J.  Vaughan,  Esq.     Roman  History. — Professions       .  .  .  305 

164.  To  Rev.  J.  Hearn.     Parties  and  individuals    .....  305 

165.  *To  Dr.  Greenhill.    Homoeopathy. — Magnetism. — Study  and  practice  of  law 

and  medicine  ........  306 

166.  To  W.  Empson,  Esq.     London  University     .....  306 

167.  To  Rev.  T.  Penrose.     Peace. — Contrast  of  parish  and  school  .  .  307 

168.  To  W;  Empson,  Esq.     London  University. — Degrees  in  Arts  .  .  308 

169.  To  J.  C.  Piatt,  Esq.     Newspapers. — Tour  in  France. — Security  of  English 

aristocracy  ........  309 

170.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Legends  in  Roman  History. — Charter  of  London 

University  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  309 

171.  tTo  Rev.  T.  J.  Ormerod.     The  two  Antichrists         .  .  .  .310 

172.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Legends  in  Roman  History         .  .  .  310 

173.  To  the  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     London  and  Oxford. — Sanderson. — Fox  How     .  311 

174.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Archbishop  of  Cologne. — Church  and  State. — Rothe     312 

175.  *  To  A.  H.  Clough,  Esq.     Oxford  Scenery      •  •  .  .  .313 

176.  To  Sir  T.  Pasley,  Bart.     Defeat  of  the  London  University.— Herman  Meri- 

vale. — Eton. — Railway       .  .  .  .  .  .  .314 


CONTENTS.  ]  9 

177.  To  the  Bishop  of  Norwich.     Difficulties  in  London  University. — Respect  for 

Bishops       .........  315 

178.  To  Rev.  J.  E.Tyler.     The  same.— King's  College     .  .  .  .315 

179.  To  an  old  Pupil  (d).     Oxford  theology  .  .  .  .  .316 

180.  To  C.  J.  Vaughan,  Esq.     Congratulations  on  success  at  Cambridge   .  .  318 

181.  To  the  Earl  of  Burlington.     Viva  voce  examination    .  .  .      •       .  318 

182.  *To  Dr.  Greenhill.     Sermons  on  Prophecy.— Weather  .  .  .319 

183.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     First  Volume  of  Roman  History — Aristocracy. — 

London  University. — Rugby  ......  320 

184.  To  the  Bishop  of  Norwich.     Reasons  for  retiring  from  the  London  University  321 

185.  To  an  old  Pupil  (d).     Athanasian  Creed         .....  321 

186.  To  T.  F.  Ellis,  Esq.     Advice  for  visiting  Rome  .  .  .  .322 

187.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Oxford  Examinations. — Physical  science. — Fronde's 

Remains      ..........  323 

188.  To  Rev.  W.  K.  Hamilton      Wordsworth's  Greek  Grammar. — Skepticism. — 

Bunsen         .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .324 

189.  To  the  Earl  of  Burlington.     Retirement  from  the  London  University  .  325 

CHAPTER   IX. 

LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE,  NOVEMBER  1838  TO  AUGUST  1841. 

Desire  for  peace,  and  for  positive  truths. — "  Lecture  on  the  divisions  of  knowledge." 
— "Two  Sermons  on  Prophecy." —Second  edition  of  Thucydides. — Attempt  to 
form  a  Society  for  drawing  attention  to  the  state  of  the  lower  orders. — "  Herts 
Reformer  Letters." — Views  on  the  Church. — Subscription. — Fourth  volume  of 
Sermons  .........  326 

LETTERS. 

190.  To  Rev.  J.  Hearn.     Rest  of  parish  contrasted  with  anxiety  of  school. — Bun- 

sen. — State  of  lower  orders. — Egyptian  discoveries  .  .  .330 

191.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Church  and  State.— Eucharist        .     .  .  .331 

192.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Wish  to  remove  suspicion  of  heterodoxy       .  .  333 

193.  To  J.  C.  Piatt,  Esq.     Chartism.— New  Poor  Law      ....  334 

194.  To  Rev.  F.  C.  Blackstone.     Gladstone  on  Church  and  State. — Despondency. 

— Roman  History. — Social  evils. — Reactions  ....  334 

195.  *  To  A.  P.  Stanley,  Esq.     Restoration  of  deacons      ....  335 

196.  *To  J.  P.  Gell,  Esq.     Appointment  to  College  in  Van  Diemen's  Land  .  336 

197.  To  James  Stephen,  Esq.     Advantage  of  uniting  the  office  of  a  clergyman  with 

that  of  a  teacher      .  .  .  .  .  .  .  337 

198.  *  To  E.  Wise,  Esq.     Private  tuition  .  .  .  .  .  .337 

199.  *  To  J.  P.  Gell,  Esq.     On  the  death  of  his  brother      .  .  .  .338 

200.  To  James  Stephen,  Esq.     Inconvenience  of  local  committees  in  educational 

institutions  ........  338 

201.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Legal  decision  on  the  foundationers  of  Rugby 

School         .  .  .  .  .  •  .  338 

202.  To  Sir  T.  S.  Pasley,  Bart.     Chartism.— Reality  of  politics.— Confirmations      339 

203.  To  Archdeacon  Hare.     Niebuhr's  letters. — Thucydides  .  .  .  339 

204.  To  an  old  Pupil  (e).     Unitarianism. — Priestley  ....  340 

205.  To  Rev.  G.  Cornish.     Childishness  of  boys. — Oxford  commemoration  of  1839  341 

206.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Birthday. — South  of  France. — Italy. — Provencal  lan- 

guage.— Despondency  .......  341 


20 


CONTENTS. 


207.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     South  of  France. — Spanish  manners. — Coleridge's 

Literary  Remains. — Chartism  ......  342 

208.  To  Sir  T.  S.  Pasley.     Toulon.— Pope's  Palace  at  Avignon.— Pony.— British 

Association  at  Birmingham  ......  343 

209.  *  To  J.  L.  Hoskyns,  Esq.     Reading  for  ordination      ....  344 


210.  *  To  T.  Burbidge,  Esq. 


211.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen 

212.  To  J.  Marshall,  Esq. 

orders 

213.  *ToH.  Balston,  Esq 

214.  To  an  old  Pupil  (d). 
215 


( 


On  the  doctrine  of  the  Eucharist 
Society  for  calling  attention  to  the  state  of  the  lower 


347 

346 


348 
349 
350 
351 
351 
351 


Liveliness  necessary  for  a  schoolmaster 
Ordination. — Difficulties  in  subscription. — Deacons 
On  Church  Endowments         . 

216.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     State  of  the  poor. — Westmoreland    . 

217.  To  James  Marshall,  Esq.     Necessity  of  union  of  parties 

218.  To  Rev.  J.  Hearn.     Westmoreland. — Aurora   Borealis. — Taylor's   Ancient 

Christianity.— Early  Church  ......  352 

219.  To  J.  C.  Piatt,  Esq.    Lectures  for  Mechanics'  Institutes. — State  of  the  poor. — 

Trials  of  Chartists  ........  353 

220.  To  Thomas  Carlyle,  Esq.     State  of  the  poor  ....  354 

221.  To  J.  Marshall,  Esq.     Englishman's  Register. — Political  creed. — Economists. 

— King's  supremacy. — Christian  Church. — Dissent. — Historical  Reforms. — 
Aristocracy. — Political  privileges     ......  355 

To  Sir  T.  S.  Pasley,  Bart.     Difficulties  of  Scripture. —  Colonization. — Daniel  357 


222. 
223. 
224. 


To  Archdeacon  Hare.     Niebuhr. — Coleridge. — Thirlwall's  Greece 
To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     Political  differences    . 

225.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Formation  of  his  opinions. — Prophecy 

226.  To  Sir  Culling  E.  Smith,  Bart.     Anonymous  writing  in  newspapers 

227.  *  To  Rev.  H.  Fox.     Call  to  a  Missionary  life 

228.  *  To  the  same.     On  the  same  .... 

229.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Berne. — Roman  History. — Privilege  question 

230.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     War  with  China 

231.  To  W.  Leaper  Newton,  Esq.     Railway  Travelling  on  Sundays 

232.  To  the  same  ....... 

233.  To  the  same  . 

234.  To  Howell  Lloyd,  Esq 

235.  To  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq. 

236.  To  the  same   .  .  ... 

237.  To  the  same   .  .  .  ... 

238.  *  To  J.  P.  Gell,  Esq.     Van  Diemen's  Land. — Sacred  names 

239.  t  To  Rev.  W.  K.  Hamilton.     Music. — Flowers  —  Keble 

240.  To  Rev.  Herbert  Hill.     Importance  of  Mathematics  . 

241.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Church  extension. — Prophecy 

242.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Rugby  Life. — Second  Volume   of  Roman  History 

Subscription, — Deacons. — State  services 

243.  To  the   same.     On  the  accession   of  the   King  of  Prussia. — Refusal   of  the 

Wardenship  of  Manchester  .... 

244.  To  an  old  Pupil  (b.)     Danger  of  Oxford  Society. — Tour  in  Italy 

245.  *  To  the  Rev.  H.  Balston.     Consumption. — Responsibility  of  school 
To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Russia. — War. — Fox  How. — Want  of  leisure 


On  the  study  of  Welsh 
On  Subscription 


246. 
247. 


CONTENTS.  21 


375 


248.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Bampton  Lectures. — Episcopacy. — Internal  eviden- 

ces .  .  ... 

249.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Illness. — Ottery. — School. — Oxford. — Rational- 

ists.— Second  Volume  of  Roman  History  ,  376 

250.  *  To  W.  S.  Karr,  Esq.     Sanscrit.— Football  matches  .  .         .    .  377 

251.  To  Archdeacon  Hare.     Sermons  on  "  Victory  of  Faith." — King's  supremacy    377 
-252.  *  To  Rev.  H.  Balston.     Guernsey     .  .  .  .  •  .378 

253.  *  To  the  same.     The  School.— Consumption  .  .  .  .379 

254.  To  an  old  Pupil  (g.)     Law  and  Orders. — Parochial  ministry  and  education    .  379 

255.  To  the  same.     Dangers  not  to  be  sought         .....  380 

256.  To  an  old  Pupil,  (h.)     Importance  of  good  men  engaged  in  business  .  381 

257.  t  To  Rev.  W.  K.  Hamilton.     Salisbury.— War         .  .  .  .381 

258.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     "  Via  Media." — Succession. — Gladstone  on  Church 

principles. — Church  .......  381 

259    To  an  old  Pupil  (g.)     Ordination       .  .  .  .  .  .383 

260.  To  the  same.     Oaths  .  .  .  .  .  .  .383 

261.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.    Shooting. — Education  of  Girls. — Agreement  with 

Pearson's  definition  of  the  Church. — Fourth  Volume  of  Sermons     .  .  384 

262.  To  W.  Balston,  Esq.     On  the  death  of  his  Son,  H.  Balston  .  .  385 

263.  To  Rev.  T.  Penrose.     On  the  same. — Third  Volume  of  Roman  History         .  385 

264.  t  To  Rev.  T.  J.  Ormerod.     Fox  How.— Southey.— Wordsworth         .  .  386 

265.  To.  W.  W.  Hull,  Esq.     Winter  Holidays.— Future  prospects  .  .  386 

266.  To  Rev.  J.  Hearn.     Occupations. — Over  caution       .  .  .  386 

267.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Third  Volume  of  Roman  History. — Hannibal  and 

Nelson. — War. — Oxford  school       ......  387 

268.  *  To  Rev.  A.  P.  Stanley.     Modern  Greece. — Tour  in  Italy. — Oxford  .  388 

269.  *  To  J.  P.  Gell,  Esq.     Van  Diemen's  Land. — Rugby  Life. — Public  affairs     .  389 

270.  To  Sir  J.  Franklin,  Bart.     Difficulties  of  education  in  Van  Diemen's  Land     .  391 

271.  To  the  same  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .392 

272.  To  Rev.  T.  Penrose.     Provident  and  Masonic  Clubs  ...  393 

273.  t  To  Rev.  T.  J.  Ormerod.     True  and  False  Sacrifice  .  .  .  393 

274.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Fourth  Volume  of  Sermons. — Differences  of  opin- 

ion.— Rugby. — Aristotle.  .  .....  394 

275.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Dissent    •  .  .  .  .  .396 

276.  To  Rev.  James  Randall.     Dissent. — The  doctrine  of  the  Trinity         .  .396 

277.  To  Rev.  J.  Hearn.     Fever  at  Rugby.— Return  6f  Mr.  Tucker  .  .397 

278.  To  Rev.  J.  Tucker.     Renewal  of  intercourse  ;  .  .  .  397 

279.  To  the  same   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .398 

280.  To  the  same.     Farewell  on  his  return  to  India  ....  399 

CHAPTER   X. 

General  Views  during  his  last  year  .         ,    .  ...  .  400 


281.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Acceptance  of  Professorship  of  Modern  History         .   402 

282.  To   Mr.   Justice    Coleridge.     School    difficulties. — Difficulties  of  Hannibal's 

march. — Notes. — Professorship        ......  402 

283.  To  Sir  T.  S.  Pasley,  Bart.     Bishoprick  of  Jerusalem. — Christian  ministry      .  404 

284.  *  To  Rev.  A.  P.  Stanley.     Plan  for  lectures  .....  404 


22 


CONTENTS. 


285.  To  W.  Empson,  Esq.      Professorship. — Tour  to  Spain. — Guelph  and  Ghibelin 

controversy. — Lamennais     .......  405 

286.  To'Rev.  T."  Hill.     Popery  and  Protestantism  .  .  .  .405 

287.  To  an  old  Pupil,  (d.)     Roman  Catholics  and  Oxford  School  .  .  .  406 

288.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Oxford  School.— Bishop  Selwyn  .  .  407 

289.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Advance  of  life  .....  407 

Inaugural  lecture. — Introductory  lectures. — Intentions  for  the  future. — Course  on 
English  History. — Terminal  lectures  on  Biography  ....  408 

290.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins. — Influence  of  Jews. — Church  and  State  .  .  414 

291.  To  Rev.  F.  C.  Blackstone.     Professorship       .         ....  .  .  .414 

292.  *  To  Rev.  R.  Thorpe.     Oxford  School  .  .  .  •  .415 

293.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     High  and' Low  Church. — Roman  Catholics  and 

Protestants              .             .             .              .             .  .  .  .415 

294.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Offer  to  resign  the  Professorship  .  .  .416 

295.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Intentions  for  the  Professorship  .  .  .  417 

296.  To  the  same  .             .             .             .             .             .  .  .  .417 

297.  To  Rev.  J.  Hearn.     Windermere  in  winter. — Occupations  .  .  .417 

298.  To  Rev.  H.  Hill.     Stay  in  Oxford      .             •             .  .  .  .418 
299/ To  an  old  pupil  (k).     Influences  of  Oxford     .             .  ...  -.418 

300.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge.     Stay  in  Oxford     .  .  .  .  .419 

301.  To  Archdeacon  Hare.     Charge. — Despondency  ....  419 

302.  To  Rev.  H.  Fox.     India. — Difficulties  of  moral  sense. — Elphinstone's  India    .419 

303.  To  Chevalier  Bunsen.     Basque  language. — Carthagena  .  .  .  420 

304.  To  Rev.  Dr.  Hawkins.     Terminal  lecture. — Carlyle's  visit      .  .  ,  421 

305.  To  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge     Colonial  Bishoprics  ....  421 

Last  days.  —  Diary. — Occupations. — Farewell   sermon. — Last  evening. — Death. — 
Conclusion  .........  422 

APPENDIX  A. 
Prayers  written  for  various  occasions  at  Rugby  School         ....  438 

APPENDIX   B. 
Selection  of  subjects  for  School  Exercises     ......  444 

APPENDIX   C. 

Travelling  Journals  .  .  .  . '  .  .  .  .  446 

I.       TOUR    IN    NORTH    OF    ITALY,    1825. 

1.  Contrast  of  English  and  Italian  peasantry  .  .  .  .  448 

2.  Cliff  above  the  Lake  of  Como,  (first  visit)  .....  448 

II.       TOUR    TO    ROME    THROUGH    FRANCE    AND    ITALY,    1827. 

1.  Prayers  for  Kings  ........  449 

2.  French  people   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  449 

3.  Approach  to  Rome,  (first  vist)  ......  449 

4.  View  from  the  Capitol. — Arch  of  Titus  .....  450 

5.  Monte  Mario    .  ■  .  .  .  .  .  .  .451 

6.  Roman  churches  ........  451 

7.  Evils  of  residence  abroad  .......  452 


CONTENTS. 


23 


8.  Meeting  with  Savigny 

9.  Colosseum         ..... 
10.  Cliff  above  the  Lake  of  Como,  (second  visit)    . 

III.      TOUR    IN    GERMANY,    1828 

1.  First  view  of  the  Rhine 

2.  The  Elbe. — Rivers  and  human  life 


IV.   TOUR  IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  NORTH  OF  ITALY,  1829. 

1.  The  Jura    ....... 

2.  The  Mediterranean      ...... 

3.  The  Lake  of  Como. — England  and  Italy 


V.       TOUR   IN    THE    SAME. 

1.  French  Liberals  at  Geneva 

2.  View  from  S.  Maria  del  Monte 

3.  Cliff  above  the  Lake  of  Como,  (third  visit) 

4.  Good  influence  of  Italian  clergy  on  wills 

5.  Imitation  of  Herodotus 

6.  Visit  to  Niebuhr  at  Bonn 

7.  Germany,  France,  and  England 

VI.       TOUR    IN    SCOTLAND,    1831. 

1.  Contrast  of  Scotch  and  English  Churches 

2.  Church  reform  ..... 

VII.       TOUR    IN    NORTH    OF    FRANCE,   1837. 

1.  Recollections  of  different  visits  to  Dover 

2.  Chartres. — Good  and  evil  of  Roman  Catholicism 


452 
452 
453 


453 
454 


454 
455 
455 


455 
456 

457 
458 
458 
459 
461 


461 

462 


462 
463 


VIII.       TOUR    IN    THE    SOUTH    OF    FRANCE. 


1.  Paris      . 

2.  France  and  England 

3.  Palace  at  Avignon 

4.  Plain  of  Crau    . 

5.  Geneva 

6.  Roads  and  Railways 

7.  France 


465 
465 
465 
465 
466 
466 
467 


IX.       TOUR    TO    ROME    AND    NAPLES    THROUGH    FRANCE    AND    ITALY,    1840. 

1.  Orleans. — Siege  of  Orleans       .  .  .  .  .  .  .467 

2.  Use  of  images  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  468 

3.  Ancient  and  modern  times        .  .  .  .  .  '.  468 

4.  Italians  .........  468 

5.  Campo  Santo  at  Pisa    ........  469 

6.  Approach  to  Rome. — Tuscan  population. — Sienna. — Scenery. — Radicofani. — 

Campagna. — Rome. — Athens. — Jerusalem    .  .  .  .  .  469 

7.  Pantheon. — St.  Stephano  Rotondo. — Martyrs  ,  474 

8.  Appii  Forum     .........  475 

9.  Mola  di  Gaeta. — Cicero's  villa  ......  475 


24 


CONTENTS. 


10.  Naples  .... 

11.  Pompeii  .... 

12.  Vale  of  Rieti. — Moral  and  natural  beauty 
13  Banks  of  Metaurus 

14.  Classical  inscriptions     . 

15.  Papal  Government 

16.  Modena. — Political  freedom      . 

17.  Swiss  nation     .... 

18.  Swiss  and  English  scenery 

19.  Farewell  to  France 

20.  Landing  in  England      . 

21.  Arrival  at  Fox  How      . 


X.       TOUR    IN   THE    SOUTH    OF    FRANCE,    1841. 

1.  French  scenery  .... 

2.  Contrast  of  St.  Jean  de  Luz  and  Mola  di  Gaeta 

3.  Birth-place  of  Scaliger 

4.  Translation  of  the  Bible  into  French 

5.  Roman  Catholicism 

6.  Prospects  for  England 

7.  Prospects  for  France. — Return 
List  of  Works 
Index    .... 


475 
476 
476 
477 
478 
478 
479 
480 
480 
481 
481 
482 


482 
483 
483 
483 
463 
481 
484 
485 
487 


THE    LIFE 


OP 


THOMAS    AKNOLD,  D.D. 


CHAPTER  I. 


EARLY  LIFE  AND  EDUCATION. 


Thomas  Arnold,  seventh  child  and  youngest  son  of  William 
and  Martha  Arnold,  was  born  on  June  13th,  1795,  at  West  Cowes, 
in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  where  his  family  had  been  settled  for  two 
generations,  their  original  residence  having  been  at  Lowestoff.  in 
Suffolk. 

His  father,  who  was  collector  of  the  customs  at  Cowes,  died 
suddenly  of  spasm  in  the  heart,  on  March  3rd,  1801.  His  two 
elder  brothers,  William  and  Matthew,  died,  the  first  in  1806,  the 
second  in  1820.  His  sisters  all  survived  him,  with  the  exception 
of  the  third,  Susannah,  who,  after  a  lingering  complaint  in  the  spine, 
died  at  Laleham,  in  1832. 

His  early  education  was  confided  by  his  mother  to  her  sister 
Miss  Delafield,  who  took  an  affectionate  pride  in  her  charge,  and 
directed  all  his  studies  as  a  child.  In  1803,  he  was  sent  to  War- 
minster school,  in  Wiltshire,  under  Dr.  Griffiths,  with  whose  assist- 
ant master,  Mr.  Lawes,  he  kept  up  his  intercourse  long  after  they 
had  parted.  In  1807,  he  was  removed  to  Winchester,  where  hav- 
ing entered  as  a  commoner,  and  afterwards  become  a  scholar  of 
the  college,  he  remained  till  1811.  In  after  life  he  always  cherished 
a  strong  Wykehamist  feeling,  and  during  his  head-mastership  at 
Rugby,  often  recurred  to  his  knowledge,  there  first  acquired,  of  the 
peculiar  constitution  of  a  public  school,  and  to  his  recollection  of 
the  tact  in  managing  boys  shown  by  Dr.  Goddard,  and  the  skill  in 
imparting  scholarship  which  distinguished  Dr.  Gabell,  who,  during 
his  stay  there,  were  successively  head  masters  of  Winchester. 

3 


26 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


Ha  was  then,  as  always,  of  a  shy  and  retiring  disposition,  but  his 
manner  as  a  child,  and  till  his  entrance  at  Oxford,  was  marked  by 
a  stiffness  and  formality  the  very  reverse  of  the  joyousness  and 
simplicity  of  his  later  years ;  his  family  and  schoolfellows  both  re- 
member him  as  unlike  those  of  his  own  age,  and  with  peculiar 
pursuits  of  his  own  ;  and  the  tone  and  style  of  his  early  letters, 
which  have  been  for  the  most  part  preserved,  are  such  as  might 
naturally  have  been  produced  by  living  chiefly  in  the  company  of 
his  elders,  and  reading,  or  hearing  read  to  him  before  he  could  read 
himself,  books  suited  to  a  more  advanced  age.  His  boyish  friend- 
ships were  strong  and  numerous.  It  is  needless  here  to  enumerate 
the  names  of  those  Winchester  schoolfellows  of  whose  after  years  it 
was  the  pride  and  delight  to  watch  the  course  of  their  companion 
through  life  ;  but  the  fond  recollections,  which  were  long  cherished 
on  both  sides,  of  his  intercourse  with  his  earliest  friend  at  Warmin- 
ster, of  whom  he  saw  and  heard  nothing  from  that  time  till  he  was 
called  upon  in  1829  to  write  his  epitaph,  is  worth  recording,1  as  a 
remarkable  instance  of  strong  impressions  of  nobleness  of  character, 
early  conceived  and  long  retained. 

Both  as  a  boy  and  a  young  man  he  was  remarkable  for  a  diffi- 
culty in  early  rising,  amounting  almost  to  a  constitutional  infir- 
mity ;  and  though  his  after  life  will  show  how  completely  this  was 
overcome  by  habit,  yet  he  often  said  that  early  rising  was  a  daily 
effort  to  him,  and  that  in  this  instance  he  never  found  the  truth  of 
the  usual  rule  that  all  things  are  made  easy  by  custom.  With 
this,  however,  was  always  united  great  occasional  energy  ;  and 
one  of  his  schoolfellows  gives  it  as  his  impression  of  him  that 
"  he  was  stiff  in  his  opinions,  and  utterly  immoveable  by  force  or 
fraud,  when  he  made  up  his  mind,  whether  right  or  wrong." 

It  is  curious  to  trace  the  beginnings  of  some  of  his  later  inte- 
rests in  his  earliest  amusements  and  occupations.  He  never  lost  the 
recollection  of  the  impression  produced  upon  him  by  the  excite- 
ment of  naval  and  military  affairs,  of  which  he  naturally  saw  and 
heard  much  by  living  at  the  Isle  of  Wight,  in  the  time  of  the  war  ; 
and  the  sports  in  which  he  took  most  pleasure,  with  the  few  play- 
mates of  his  childhood,  were  in  sailing  rival  fleets  in  his  father's 
garden,'  or  acting  the  battles  of  the  Homeric  heroes,  with  whatever 
implements  he  could  use  as  spear  arid  shield,  and  reciting  their 
several  speeches  from  Pope's  translation  of  the  Iliad.  He  was  from 
his  earliest  years  exceedingly  fond  of  ballad  poetry,  which  his  Win- 
chester schoolfellows  used  to  learn  from  his  repetition  before  they 
had  seen  it  in  print ;  and  his  own  compositions  as  a  boy  all  ran  in 
the  same  direction.  A  play  of  this  kind,  in  which  his  schoolfel- 
lows were  introduced  as  the  dramatis  personae,  and  a  long  poem  of 
"  Simon  de  Montfort,"  in  imitation  of  Scott's  Marmion,  procured  for 
him  at  school,  by  way  of  distinction  from  another  boy  of  the  same 
name,  the  appellation  of  Poet  Arnold.     And  the  earliest  specimen 

1  See  Letters  on  the  death  of  George  Evelyn,  in  1829. 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


27 


of  his  composition  which  has  been  preserved  is  a  little  tragedy, 
written  before  he  was  seven  years  old,  on  "  Piercy  Earl  of  Nor- 
thumberland," suggested  apparently  by  Home's  play  of  Douglas  ; 
which,  however,  contains  nothing  worthy  of  notice,  except,  perhaps, 
the  accuracy  of  orthography,  language,  and  blank  verse  metre,  in 
which  it  is  written,  and  the  precise  arrangement  of  the  different 
acts  and  scenes. 

But  he  was  most  remarked  for  his  forwardness  in  history  and 
geography.  His  strong  power  of  memory,  (which,  however,  in 
later  years  depended  mainly  on  association,)  extending  to  the  exact 
state  of  the  weather  on  particular  days,  or  the  exact  words  and 
position  of  passages  which  he  had  not  seen  for  twenty  years, 
showed  itself  very  early  and  chiefly  on  these  subjects.  One  of  the 
few  recollections  which  he  retained  of  his  father  was  that  he  re- 
ceived from  him,  at  three  years  old,  a  present  of  Smollett's  History 
of  England,  as  a  reward  for  the  accuracy  with  which  he  had  gone 
through  the  stories  connected  with  the  portraits  and  pictures  of  the 
successive  reigns  ;  and  at  the  same  age  he  used  to  sit  at  his  aunt's 
table  arranging  his  geographical  cards,  and  recognizing  by  their 
shape  at  a  glance  the  different  counties  of  the  dissected  map  of 
England. 

He  long  retained  a  grateful  remembrance  of  the  miscellaneous 
books  to  which  he  had  access  in  the  school  library  at  Warminster, 
and  when,  in  his  professorial  chair  at  Oxford,  he  quoted  Dr. 
Priestley's  Lectures  on  History,  it  was  from  his  recollection  of 
what  he  had  there  read  when  he  was  eight  years  old.  At  Win- 
chester he  was  a  diligent  student  of  Russell's  Modern  Europe ; 
Gibbon  and  Mitford  he  had  read  twice  over  before  he  left  school : 
and  amongst  the  comments  on  his  reading  and  the  bursts  of 
political  enthusiasm  on  the  events  of  the  day  in  which  he  indulged 
in  his  Winchester  letters,  it  is  curious,  as  connected  with  his  later 
labours,  to  read  his  indignation,  when  fourteen  years  old,  "at  the 
numerous  boasts  which  are  every  where  to  be  met  with  in  the 
Latin  writers."  "I  verily  believe,"  he  adds,  "that  half  at  least 
of  the  Roman  history  is,  if  not  totally  false,  at  least  scandalously 
exaggerated :  how  far  different  are  the  modest,  unaffected,  and 
impartial  narrations  of  Herodotus,  Thucydides,  and  Xenophon." 

The  period  both  of  his  home  and  school  education  was  too 
short  to  exercise  much  influence  upon  his  after  life.  But  he 
always  looked  back  upon  it  with  a  marked  tenderness.  The  keen 
sense  which  he  entertained  of  the  bond  of  relationship  and  of  early 
association, — not  the  less  from  the  blank  in  his  own  domestic 
recollections  occasioned  by  his  father's  death,  and  his  own  subse- 
quent removal  from  the  Isle  of  Wight, — invested  with  a  peculiar 
interest  the  scenes  and  companions  of  his  childhood.  His  strong 
domestic  affections  had  acted  as  an  important  safeguard  to  him, 
when  he  was  thrown  at  so  early  an  age  into  the  new  sphere  of  an 
Oxford  life  ;  and  when,  in  later  years,  he  was  left  the  head  of  the 
family,  he  delighted  in  gathering  round  him  the  remains  of  his 


23  LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

father's  household,  and  in  treasuring  up  every  particular  relating 
to  his  birth-place  and  parentage,  even  to  the  graves  of  the  older 
generations  of  the  family  in  the  parish  church  at  Lowestoff,  and 
the  great  willow  tree  in  his  father's  grounds  at  Slattwoods,  from 
which  he  transplanted  shoots  successively  to  Laleham,  to  Rugby, 
and  to  Fox  How.  Every  date  in  the  family  history,  with  the 
alteration  of  hereditary  names,  and  the  changes  of  their  residence, 
was  carefully  preserved  for  his  children  in  his  own  handwriting, 
and  when  in  after  years  he  fixed  on  the  abode  of  his  old  age  in 
Westmoreland,  it  was  his  great  delight  to  regard  it  as  a  continua- 
tion of  his  own  early  home  in  the  Isle  of  Wight.  And  when,  as 
was  his  wont,  he  used  to  look  back  from  time  to  time  over  the 
whole  of  this  period,  it  was  with  the  solemn  feeling  which  is  ex- 
pressed in  one  of  his  later  journals,  written  on  a  visit  to  the  place 
of  his  earliest  school-education,  in  the  interval  between  the  close 
of  his  life  at  Laleham,  and  the  beginning  of  his  work  at  Rugby. 
"  Warminster,  January  5th  [1828].  I  have  not  written  this  date 
for  more  than  twenty  years,  and  how  little  could  I  foresee  when  I 
wrote  it  last,  what  would  happen  to  me  in  the  interval.  And  now 
to  look  forward  twenty  years — how  little  can  I  guess  of  that  also. 
Only  may  He  in  whose  hands  are  time  and  eternity,  keep  me 
evermore  his  own  ;  that  whether  I  live,  I  may  live  unto  Him  ;  or 
whether  I  die,  I  may  die  unto  Him ;  may  he  guide  me  with  his 
counsel,  and  after  that  receive  me  to  glory,  through  Jesus  Christ 
our  Saviour." 


In  1811,  in  his  16th  year,  he  was  elected  as  a  scholar  at  Corpus 
Christi  College,  Oxford ;  in  1814,  his  name  was  placed  in  the  first 
class  in  Litterae  Humaniores ;  in  the  next  year  he  was  elected 
Fellow  of  Oriel  College  ;  and  he  gained  the  Chancellor's  prize  for 
the  two  University  Essays,  Latin  and  English,  for  the  years  1815 
and  1817.  Those  who  know  the  influence  which  his  college 
friendships  exercised  over  his  after  life,  and  the  deep  affection 
which  he  always  bore  to  Oxford,  as  the  scene  of  the  happiest 
recollections  of  his  youth,  and  the  sphere  which  he  hoped  to 
occupy  with  the  employments  of  his  old  age,  will  rejoice  in  the 
possession  of  the  following  record  of  his  under-graduate  life  by 
that  true  and  early  friend,  to  whose  timely  advice,  protection,  and 
example,  at  the  critical  period  when  he  was  thrown  with  all  the 
spirits  and  the  inexperience  of  boyhood  on  the  temptations  of  the 
University,  he  always  said  and  felt,  that  he  had  owed  more  than 
to  any  other  man  in  the  world. 


LETTER  FROM  MR.  JUSTICE  COLERIDGE. 

Heath's  Court,  September,  1843. 
HT    DEAR    STANLEY, 

When  you  informed  me  of  Mrs.  Arnold's  wish  that  I  would 
contribute  to  your  memoir  of  our  dear  friend,  Dr.  Arnold,  such 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


•29 


recollections  as  I  had  of  his  career  as  an  nnder-graduate  at  Oxford, 
with  the  intimation  that  they  were  intended  to  fill  up  that  chapter 
in  his  life,  my  only  hesitation  in  complying  with  her  wish  arose 
from  my  doubts,  whether  my  impressions  were  so  fresh  and  true, 
or  my  powers  of  expression  such  as  to  enable  me  to  do  justice  to 
the  subject.  A  true  and  lively  picture  of  him  at  that  time  would 
be,  I  am  sure,  interesting  in  itself;  and  I  felt  certain  also  that  his 
Oxford  residence  contributed  essentially  to  the  formation  of  his 
character  in  after  life.  My  doubts  remain  ;  but  I  have  not  thought 
them  important  enough  to  prevent  my  endeavouring  at  least  to 
comply  with  her  request ;  nor  will  I  deny  that  I  promise  myself 
much  pleasure,  melancholy  though  it  may  be,  in  this  attempt  to 
recall  those  days.  They  had  their  troubles,  I  dare  say,  but  in 
retrospect  they  always  appear  to  me  among  the  brightest  and  least 
chequered,  if  not  the  most  useful,  which  have  ever  been  vouchsafed 
to  me. 

Arnold  and  T,  as  you  know,  were  under-graduates  of  Corpus 
Christi,  a  college  very  small  in  its  numbers,  and  humble  in  its 
buildings,  but  to  which  we  and  our  fellow-students  formed  an  at- 
tachment never  weakened  in  the  after  course  of  our  lives.  At  the 
time  I  speak  of,  1809,  and  thenceforward  for  some  few  years,  it  was 
under  the  Presidency,  mild  and  inert,  rather  than  paternal,  of  Dr. 
Cooke.  His  nephew,  Dr.  Williams,  was  the  vice-president,  and 
medical  fellow,  the  only  lay  fellow  permitted  by  the  statutes.  Re- 
tired he  was  in  his  habits,  and  not  forward  to  interfere  with  the 
pursuits  or  studies  of  the  young  men.  But  I  am  bound  to  record 
not  only  his  learning  and  good  taste,  but  the  kindness  of  his  heart, 
and  his  readiness  to  assist  them  by  advice  and  criticism  in  their 
compositions.  When  1  wrote  for  the  Latin  Verse  prize,  in  1810,  I 
was  much  indebted  to  him  for  advice  in  matters  of  taste  and  La- 
tinity,  and  for  the  pointing  out  many  faults  in  my  rough  verses. 

Our  tutors  were  the  present  Sedleian  Professor,  the  Rev.  G.  L. 
Cooke,  and  the  lately  deceased  President,  the  Rev.  T.  Bridges.  Of 
the  former,  because  he  is  alive,  I  will  onlysay  that  I  believe  no  one 
ever  attended  his  lectures  without  learning  to  admire  his  unwearied 
industry,  patience,  and  good  temper,  and  that  few  if  any  quitted 
his  pupil  room  without  retaining  a  kindly  feeling  towards  him. 
The  recent  death  of  Dr.  Bridges  would  have  affected  Arnold  as  it 
has  me  :  he  was  a  most  amiable  man  ;  the  affectionate  earnestness 
of  his  manner,  and  his  high  tone  of  feeling,  fitted  him  especially 
to  deal  with  young  men  ;  he  made  us  always  desirous  of  pleasing 
him  ;  perhaps  his  fault  was  that  he  was  too  easily  pleased  ;  I  am 
sure  that  he  will  be  long  and  deeply  regretted  in  the  University. 

It  was  not,  however,  so  much  by  the  authorities  of  the  college 
that  Arnold's  character  was  affected,  as  by  its  constitution  and  sys- 
tem, and  by  the  residents  whom  it  was  his  fortune  to  associate  with 
familiarly  there.  I  shall  hardly  do  justice  to  my  subject  unless  I 
state  a  few  particulars  as  to  the  foimer,  and  what  I  am  at  liberty 
to  mention  as  to  the  latter.     Corpus  is  a  very  small  establishment, 


30  LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

— twenty  fellows  and  twenty  scholars,  with  four  exhibitioners,  form 
the  foundation.  No  independent  members  were  admitted  except 
gentlemen  commoners,  and  they  were  limited  to  six.  Of  the  scho- 
lars several  were  bachelors,  and  the  whole  number  of  students 
actually  under  college  tuition  seldom  exceeded  twenty.  But  the 
scholarships,  though  not  entirely  open,  were  yet  enough  so  to  admit 
of  much  competition  ;  their  value,  and  still  more,  the  creditable 
strictness  and  impartiality  with  which  the  examinations  were  con- 
ducted, (qualities  at  that  time  more  rare  in  college  elections  than 
now,)  insured  a  number  of  good  candidates  for  each  vacancy,  and 
we  boasted  a  more  than  proportionate  share  of  successful  com- 
petitors for  University  honours.  It  had  been  generally  understood, 
(I  know  not  whether  the  statutes  prescribe  the  practice,)  that  in  the 
examinations,  a  large  allowance  was  made  for  youth ;  certain  it 
was  that  we  had  many  very  young  candidates,  and  that  of  these, 
many  remarkable  for  early  proficiency  succeeded.  We  were  then 
a  small  society,  the  members  rather  under  the  usual  age,  and  with 
more  than  the  ordinary  proportion  of  ability  and  scholarship ;  our 
mode  of  tuition  was  in  harmony  with  these  circumstances ;  not  by 
private  lectures,  but  in  classes  of  such  a  size  as  excited  emulation, 
and  made  us  careful  in  the  exact  and  neat  rendering  of  the  origi- 
nal, yet  not  so  numerous  as  to  prevent  individual  attention  on  the 
tutor's  part,  and  familiar  knowledge  of  each  pupil's  turn  and 
talents.  In  addition  to  the  books  read  in  lecture,  the  tutor  at  the 
beginning  of  the  term  settled  with  each  student  upon  some  book  to 
be  read  by  himself  in  private,  and  prepared  for  the  public  examin- 
ation at  the  end  of  term  in  Hall ;  and  with  this  book  something  on 
paper,  either  an  analysis  of  it,  or  remaiks  upon  it,  was  expected  to 
be  produced,  which  insured  that  the  book  should  really  have  been 
read.  It  has  often  struck  me  since,  that  this  whole  plan,  which 
is  now  I  believe  in  common  use  in  the  University,  was  well  de- 
vised for  the  tuition  of  young  men  of  our  age.  We  were  not  en- 
tirely set  free  from  the  leading-strings  of  the  school ;  accuracy  was 
cared  for;  we  were  accustomed  to  viva  voce  lendering,  and  viva 
voce  question  and  answer  in  our  lecture-room,  before  an  audience  of 
fellow-students,  whom  we  sufficiently  respected :  at  the  same  time, 
the  additional  reading  trusted  to  ourselves  alone,  prepared  us  for 
accurate  private  study,  and  for  our  final  exhibition  in  the  schools. 

One  result  of  all  these  circumstances  was,  that  we  lived  on  the 
most  familiar  terms  with  each  other ;  we  might  be,  indeed  we 
were,  somewhat  boyish  in  manner,  and  in  the  liberties  we  took 
with  each  other ;  but  our  interest  in  literature,  ancient  and  modern, 
and  in  all  the  stirring  matters  of  that  stirring  time,  was  not  boyish  ; 
we  debated  the  classic  and  romantic  question  ;  we  discussed  poet- 
ry and  history,  logic  and  philosophy  ;  or  we  fought  over  the  Pet  in- 
sular battles  and  the  Continental  campaigns  with  the  energy  of 
disputants  personally  concerned  in  them.  Our  habits  weie  inex- 
pensive and  temperate  :  one  break-up  party  was  held  in  the  junior 
common  room  at  the  end  of  each  term,  in  which  we  indulged  our 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  31 

genius  more  freely,  and  our  merriment,  to  say  the  truth,  was  some- 
what exuberant  and  noisy;  but  the  authorities  wisely  forbore  too 
strict  an  inquiry  into  this. 

It  was  one  of  the  happy  peculiarities  of  Corpus  that  the  bache- 
lor scholars  were  compelled  to  residence.  This  regulation,  seem- 
ingly inconvenient,  but  most  wholesome  as  I  cannot  but  think  for 
themselves,  and  now  unwisely  relaxed,  operated  very  beneficially 
on  the  under-graduates ;  with  the  best  and  the  most  advanced  of 
these  they  associated  very  usefully  :  I  speak  here  with  grateful  and 
affectionate  remembrances  of  the  privileges  which  I  enjoyed  in  this 
way. 

You  will  see  that  a  society  thus  circumstanced  was  exactly  one 
most  likely  to  influence  strongly  the  character  of  such  a  lad  as  Ar- 
nold was  at  his  election.  He  came  to  us  in  Lent  Term,  1811,  from 
Winchester,  winning  his  election  against  several  very  respectable 
candidates.  He  was  a  mere  boy  in  appearance  as  well  as  in  age ; 
but  we  saw  in  a  very  short  time  that  he  was  quite  equal  to  take 
his  part  in  the  arguments  of  the  common  room;  and  he  was,  1 
rather  think,  admitted  by  Mr.  Cooke  at  once  into  his  senior  class. 
As  he  was  equal,  so  was  he  ready  to  take  part  in  our  discussions  : 
he  was  fond  of  conversation  on  serious  matters,  and  vehement  in 
argument;  fearless  too  in  advancing  his  opinions — which,  to  say 
the  truth,  often  startled  us  a  good  deal ;  but  he  was  ingenuous  and 
candid,  and  though  the  fearlessness  with  which,  so  young  as  he 
was,  he  advanced  his  opinions  might  have  seemed  to  betoken  pre- 
sumption, yet  the  good  temper  with  which  he  bore  retort  or  rebuke, 
relieved  him  from  that  imputation  ;  he  was  bold  and  warm,  because 
so  far  as  his  knowledge  went  he  saw  very  clearly,  and  he  was  an 
ardent  lover  of  truth,  but  I  never  saw  in  him  even  then  a  grain  of 
vanity  or  conceit.  I  have  said  that  some  of  his  opinions  startled 
us  a  good  deal ;  we  were  indeed  for  the  most  part  Tories  in  Church 
and  State,  great  respecters  of  things  as  they  were,  and  not  very 
tolerant  of  the  disposition  which  he  brought  with  him  to  question 
their  wisdom.  Many  and  long  were  the  conflicts  we  had.  and  with 
unequal  numbers.  I  think  I  have  seen  all  the  leaders  of  the  com- 
mon room  engaged  with  him  at  once,  with  little  order  or  considera- 
tion, as  may  be  supposed,  and  not  always  with  great  scrupulosity 
as  to  the  fairness  of  our  arguments.  This  was  attended  by  no  loss 
of  regard,  and  scarcely  ever,  or  seldom,  by  even  momentary  loss  of 
temper.  We  did  not  always  convince  him — perhaps  we  ought  not 
always  to  have  done  so — yet  in  the  end  a  considerable  modification 
of  his  opinions  was  produced  :  in  one  of  his  letters  to  me,  written  at 
a  much  later  period,  he  mentions'  this  change.  In  truth,  there  were 
those  among  us  calculated  to  produce  an  impression  on  his  affec- 
tionate heart  and  ardent  ingenuous  mind  ;  and  the  rather,  because 
the  more  we  saw  of  him,  and  the  more  we  battled  with  him,  the 
more  manifestly  did  we  respect  and  love  him.  The  feeling  with 
which  we  argued  gave  additional  power  to  our  arguments  over  a 
disposition  such  as  his ;   and   thus  he  became  attached  to  young 


32  LIFE    OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

men  of  the  most  different  tastes  and  intellects  ;  his  love  for  each 
taking  a  different  colour,  more  or  less  blended  with  respect,  fond- 
ness, or  even  humour,  according  to  those  differences  ;  and  in  return 
they  all  uniting  in  love  and  respect  for  him. 

There  will  be  some  few  to  whom  these  remembrances  will 
speak  with  touching  truth  ;  they  will  remember  his  single-hearted 
and  devout  schoolfellow,  who  early  gave  up  his  native  land,  and 
devoted  himself  to  the  missionary  cause  in  India  ;  the  high-souled 
and  imaginative,  though  somewhat  indolent  lad,  who  came  to  us 
from  Westminster — one  bachelor,  whose  father's  connexion  with 
the  House  of  Commons  and  residence  in  Palace  Yard  made  him  a 
great  authority  with  us  as  to  the  world  without,  and  the  statesmen 
whose  speeches  he  sometimes  heard,  but  we  discussed  much  as  if 
they  had  been  personages  in  history  ;  and  whose  remarkable  love 
for  historical  and  geographical  research,  and  his  proficiency  in  it, 
with  his  clear  judgment,  quiet  humour,  and  mildness  in  communi- 
cating information,  made  him  peculiarly  attractive  to  Arnold ; — 
and  above  all,  our  senior  among  the  under-graduates,  though  my 
junior  in  years,  the  author  of  the  Christian  Year,  who  came  fresh 
from  the  single  teaching  of  his  venerable  father,  and  achieved  the 
highest  honours  of  the  University  at  an  age  when  others  frequently 
are  but  on  her  threshold.  Arnold  clung  to  all  these  with  equal 
fidelity,  but  regarded  each  with  different  feelings  ;  each  produced 
on  him  a  salutary,  but  different  effect.  His  love  for  all  without  ex- 
ception I  know,  if  I  know  any  thing  of  another  man's  heart,  con- 
tinued to  his  life's  end  ;  it  survived  (how  can  the  mournful  facts 
be  concealed  in  any  complete  and  truth-telling  narrative  of  his  life?) 
separation,  suspension  of  intercourse,  and  entire  disagreement  of 
opioion,  with  the  last  of  these,  on  points  believed  by  them  both  to 
be  of  essential  importance.  These  two  held  their  opinions  with  a 
zeal  and  tenacity  proportionate  to  their  importance  ;  each  believed 
the  other  in  error  pernicious  to  the  faith  and  dangerous  to  himself; 
and  what  they  believed  sincerely,  each  thought  himself  bound  to 
state,  and  stated  it  openly,  it  may  be  with  too  much  of  warmth  ; 
and  unguarded  expressions  were  unnecessarily,  I  think  inaccu- 
rately, reported.  Such  disagreements  in  opinion  between  the  wise 
and  good  are  incident  to  our  imperfect  state  ;  and  even  the  good 
qualities  of  the  heart,  earnestness,  want  of  suspicion,  may  lay  us 
open  to  them  ;  but  in  the  case  before  me  the  affectionate  interest 
with  which  each  regarded  the  other  never  ceased.  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  retain  the  intimate  friendship  and  correspondence  of  both, 
and  I  can  testify  with  authority  that  the  elder  spoke  and  wrote  of 
the  younger  as  an  elder  brother  might  of  a  younger  whom  he  ten- 
derly loved,  though  he  disapproved  of  his  course  ;  while  it  was  not 
in  Arnold's  nature  to  forget  how  much  he  had  owed  to  Keble  :  he 
bitterly  lamented,  what  he  laboured  to  avert,  the  suspension  of  their 
intimate  intercourse  ;  he  was  at  all  times  anxious  to  renew  it ;  and 
although  where  the  disagreement  turned  on  points  so  vital  between 
men  who  held  each  to  his  own  so  conscientiously,  this  may  have 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  33 

b33n  too  much  to  expect,  yet  it  is  a  most  gratifying  thought  to  thier 
common  friends  that  they  would  probably  have  met  at  Fox  Low 
under  Arnold's  roof,  but  a  few  weeks  after  he  was  called  away  to 
that  state,  in  which  the  doubts  and  controversies  of  this  life  will 
receive  their  clear  resolution. 

I  return  from  my  digression, — Arnold  came  to  us  of  course  not 
a  formed  scholar,  nor,  I  think,  did  he  leave  the  college  with  scho- 
larship proportioned  to  his  great  abilities  and  opportunities.  And 
this  arose  in  part  from  the  decided  preference  which  he  gave  to  the 
philosophers  and  historians  of  antiquity  over  the  poets,  coupled 
with  the  distinction  which  he  then  made,  erroneous,  as  I  think,  and 
certainly  extreme  in  degree,  between  words  and  things,  as  he  termed 
it.  His  correspondence  with  me  will  show  how  much  he  modified 
this  too  in  after  life  ;  but  at  that  time  he  was  led  by  it  to  under- 
value those  niceties  of  language,  the  intimate  acquaintance  with 
which  he  did  not  then  perceive  to  be  absolutely  necessary  to  a  pre- 
cise knowledge  of  the  meaning  of  the  author.  His  compositions, 
therefore,  at  this  time,  though  full  of  matter,  did  not  give  promise 
of  that  clear  and  spirited  style  which  he  afterwards  mastered  ;  he 
gained  no  verse  prize,  but  was  an  unsuccessful  competitor  for  the 
Latin  Verse  in  the  year  1812,  when  Henry  Latham  succeeded,  the 
third  brother  of  that  house  who  had  done  so  ;  and  though  this  is 
the  only  occasion  on  which  I  have  any  memorandum  of  his  writ- 
ing, I  do  not  doubt,  that  he  made  other  attempts.  Among  us  were 
several  who  were  fond  of  writing  English  verse  ;  Keble  was  even 
then  raising  among  us  those  expectations,  which  he  has  since  so 
fully  justified,  and  Arnold  was  not  slow  to  follow  t  example.  I 
have  several  poems  of  his  written  about  this  time,  neat  and  pointed 
in  expression,  and  just  in  thought,  but  not  remarkable  for  fancy  or 
imagination.  I  remember  some  years  after,  his  telling  me  that  he 
continued  the  practice  "  on  principle,"  he  thought  it  a  useful  and 
humanizing  exercise. 

But,  though  not  a  poet  himself,  he  was  not  insensible  of  the 
beauties  of  poetry — far  from  it.  1  reflect, with  some  pleasure,  that 
I  first  introduced  him  to  what  has  been  somewhat  unreasonably 
called  the  Lake  Poetry;  my  near  relation  to  one,  and  connexion 
with  another  of  the  poets,  whose  works  were  so  called,  were  the 
occasion  of  this ;  and  my  uncle  having  sent  me  the  Lyrical  Bal- 
lads, and  the  first  edition  of  Mr.  Wordsworth's  poems,  they  became 
familiar  among  us.  We  were  proof,  I  am  glad  to  think,  against 
the  criticism,  if  so  it  might  be  called,  of  the  "  Edinburgh  Review  ;" 
we  felt  their  truth  and  beauty,  and  became  zealous  disciples  of 
Wordsworth's  philosophy.  This  was  of  peculiar  advantage  lo 
Arnold,  whose  leaning  was  too  direct  for  the  practical  and  evi- 
dently useful — it  brought  out  in  him  that  feeling  for  the  lofty  and 
imaginative  which  appeared  in  all  his  intimate  conversation,  and 
may  be  seen  spiiitualizing  those  even  of  his  writings,  in  which, 
from  their  subject,  it  might  seem  to  have  less  place.  You  know  in 
later  life  how  much  he  thought  his  beloved  Fox  How  enhanced  in 


34 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


value  by  its  neighbourhood  to  Rydal  Mount,  and  what  store  he  set 
on  the  privilege  of  frequent  and  friendly  converse  with  the  venera- 
ble genius  of  that  sweet  spot. 

But  his  passion  at  the  time  I  am  treating  of  was  for  Aristotle 
and  Thucydides ;  and  however  he  became  some  few  years  after 
more  sensible  of  the  importance  of  the  poets  in  classic  literature, 
this  passion  he  retained  to  the  last ;  those  who  knew  him  inti- 
mately or  corresponded  with  him,  will  bear  me  witness  how  deeply 
he  was  imbued  with  the  language  and  ideas  of  the  former;  how 
in  earnest  and  unreserved  conversation,  or  in  writing,  his  train  of 
thoughts  was  affected  by  the  Ethics  and  Rhetoric ;  how  he  cited 
the  maxims  of  the  Stagyrite  as  oracles,  and  how  his  language  was 
quaintly  and  racily  pointed  with  phrases  from  him.  I  never  knew 
a  man  who  made  such  familiar,  even  fond  use  of  an  author :  it  is 
scarcely  too  much  to  say,  that  he  spoke  of  him  as  of  one  intimately 
and  affectionately  known  and  valued  by  him ;  and  when  he  was 
selecting  his  son's  University,  with  much  leaning  for  Cambridge, 
and  many  things  which  at  the  time  made  him  incline  against  Ox* 
ford,  dearly  as  he  loved  her,  Aristotle  turned  the  scale  ;  "  I  could 
not  consent,"  said  he,  "  to  send  my  son  to  a  University  where  he 
would  lose  the  study  of  him  altogether."  "  You  may  believe,"  he 
said  with  regard  to  the  London  University,  "  that  I  have  not  for- 
gotten tUe  dear  old  Stagyrite  in  our  examinations,  and  I  hope  that 
he  will  be  construed  and  discussed  in  Somerset  House  as  well  as  in 
the  schools."  His  fondness  for  Thucydides  first  prompted  a  Lexi- 
con Thucydideum,  in  which  he  made  some  progress  at  Laleham 
in  1821  and  1822,  and  ended  as  you  know  in  his  valuable  edition 
of  that  author. 

Next  to  these  he  loved  Herodotus.  I  have  said  that  he  was  not, 
while  I  knew  him  at  Oxford,  a  formed  scholar,  and  that  he  com- 
posed stiffly  and  with  difficulty,  but  to  this  there  was  a  seeming  ex- 
ception ;  he  had  so  imbued  himself  with  the  style  of  Herodotus 
and  Thucydides,  that  he  could  write  narratives  in  the  style  of 
either  at  pleasure  with  wonderful  readiness,  and  as  we  thought 
with  the  greatest  accuracy.  I  remember,  too,  an  account  by  him 
of  a  Vacation  Tour  in  the  Isle  of  Wight  after  the  manner  of  the 
Anabasis. 

Arnold's  bodily  recreations  were  walking  and  bathing.  It  was 
a  particular  delight  to  him,  with  two  or  three  companions,  to  make 
what  he  called  a  skirmish  across  the  country  ;  on  these  occasions 
we  deserted  the  road,  crossed  fences,  and  leaped  ditches,  or  fell  into 
them  :  he  enjoyed  the  country  round  Oxford,  and  while  out  in  this 
way,  his  spirits  would  rise,  and  his  mirth  overflowed.  Though 
delicate  in  appearance,  and  not  giving  promise  of  great  muscular 
strength,  yet  his  form  was  light,  and  he  was  capable  of  going  long 
distances  and  bearing  much  fatigue. 

You  know  that  to  his  last  moment  of  health  he  had  the  same 
predilections ;  indeed  he  was,  as  much  as  any  I  ever  knew,  one 
whose  days  were 

"  Bound  each  to  each  by  natural  piety." 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  35 

His  manner  had  all  the  tastes  and  feelings  of  his  youth,  only  more 
developed  and  better  regulated.  The  same  passion  for  the  sea  and 
shipping,  and  his  favourite  Isle  of  Wight ;  the  same  love  for  exter- 
nal nature,  the  same  readiness  in  viewing  the  characteristic  fea- 
tures of  a  country  and  its  marked  positions,  or  the  most  beautiful 
points  of  a  prospect,  for  all  which  he  was  remarkable  in  after  life, 
we  noticed  in  him  then.  When  Professor  Buckland,  then  one  of 
our  Fellows,  began  his  career  in  that  science,  to  the  advancement 
of  which  he  has  contributed  so  much,  Arnold  became  one  of  his 
most  earnest  and  intelligent  pupils,  and  you  know  how  familiarly 
and  practically  he  applied  geological  facts  in  all  his  later  years. 

In  June,  1812,  I  was  elected  Fellow  of  Exeter  College,  and  de- 
termined to  pursue  the  law  as  my  profession :  my  residence  at  Ox- 
ford was  thenceforward  only  occasional ;  but  the  friendship  which 
had  grown  up  between  us  suffered  no  diminution.  Something,  I 
forget  now  the  particular  circumstance,  led  to  an  interchange  of  let- 
ters, which  ripened  into  a  correspondence,  continued  with  rather 
unusual  regularity  when  our  respective  occupations  are  considered, 
to  within  a  few  days  of  his  death.  It  may  show  the  opinion 
which  I  even  then  entertained  of  him,  that  I  carefully  preserved 
from  the  beginning  every  letter  which  I  ever  received  from  him: 
you  have  had  an  opportunity  of  judging  of  the  value  of  the  col- 
lection. 

After  I  had  ceased  to  reside,  a  small  debating  society  called  the 
Attic  Society  was  formed  in  Oxford,'  which  held  its  meetings  in 
the  rooms  of  the  members  by  turns.  Arnold  was  among  the  earli- 
est members,  and  was,  I  believe,  an  embarrassed  speaker.  This  I 
should  have  expected ;  for,  however  he  might  appear  a  confident 
advancer  of  his  own  opinions,  he  was  in  truth  bashful,  and  at  the 
same  time  had  so  acute  a  perception  of  what  was  ill-seasoned  or  ir- 
relevant, that  he  would  want  that  freedom  from  restraint  which  is 
essential  at  least  to  young  speakers.  This  society  was  the  germ  of 
the  Union,  but  I  believe  he  never  belonged  to  it. 

In  our  days,  the  religious  controversies  had  not  begun,  by  which 
the  minds  of  young  men  at  Oxford  are,  I  fear,  now  prematurely 
and  too  much  occupied  ;  the  routine  theological  studies  of  the 
University  were,  I  admit,  deplorably  low,  but  the  earnest  ones 
amongst  us  were  diligent  readers  of  Barrow,  Hooker,  and  Taylor. 
Arnold  was  among  these,  but  I  have  no  recollection  of  any  thing 
at  that  time  distinctive  in  his  religious  opinions.  What  occurred 
afterwards,  does  not  properly  fall  within  my  chapter,  yet  it  is  not 
unconnected  with  it,  and  I  believe  I  can  sum  up  all  that  need  be 
said  on  such  a  subject,  as  shortly  and  as  accurately,  from  the 
sources  of  information  in  my  hands,  as  any  other  person  can.     His 

1  In  this  society  he  formed  or  confirmed  his  acquaintance  with  a  new  circle  of 
friends,  chiefly  of  other  colleges,  whose  names  will  appear  in  the  ensuing  correspondence 
by  the  side  of  those  of  an  earlier  date  from  Corpus,  and  of  a  somewhat  later  date  from 
Oriel,  Mr.  Lowe,  Mr.  Hull,  Mr.  Randall,  Mr.  Blackstone,  and  Mr.  Hare,  and  through 
him  with  his  Cambridge  brother,  now  Archdeacon  flare. 


36  LIFE   OF  J)R.  ARNOLD. 

was  an  anxiously  inquisitive  mind,  a  scrupulously  conscientious 
heart;  his  inquiries,  previously  to  his  taking  orders,  led  him  on  to 
distressing  doubts  on  certain  points  in  the  Articles ;  these  were  not 
low  nor  rationalistic  in  their  tendency,  according  to  the  bad  sense 
of  that  term  ;  there  was  no  indisposition  in  him  to  believe  merely 
because  the  article  transcended  his  reason ;  he  doubted  the  proof 
and  the  interpretation  of  the  textual  authority.  His  state  was  very 
painful,  and  I  think  morbid ;  fori  remarked  that  the  two  occasions 
on  which  I  was  privy  to  his  distress,  were  precisely  those  in  which 
to  doubt  was  against*  his  dearest  schemes  of  worldly  happiness ; 
and  the  consciousness  of  this  seemed  to  make  him  distrustful  of 
the  arguments  which  were  intended  to  lead  his  mind  to  acquies- 
cence. Upon  the  first  occasion  to  which  I  allude,  he  was  a  Fellow 
of  Oriel,  and  in  close  intercourse  with  one  of  the  friends  I  have 
before  mentioned,  then  also  a  Fellow  of  the  same  college  :  to  him 
as  well  as  to  me  he  opened  his  mind,  and  from  him  he  received 
the  wisest  advice,  which  he  had  the  wisdom  to  act  upon :  he  was 
bid  to  pause  in  his  inquiries,  to  pray  earnestly  for  help  and  light 
from  above,  and  turn  himself  more  strongly  than  ever  to  the  practi- 
cal duties  of  a  holy  life  ;  he  did  so,  and  through  severe  trials  was 
finally  blessed  with  perfect  peace  of  mind,  and  a  settled  conviction. 
If  there  be  any  so  unwise  as  to  rejoice  that  Arnold,  in  his  youth, 
had  doubts  on  important  doctrines,  let  him  be  sobered  with  the 
conclusion  of  those  doubts,  when  Arnold's  mind  had  not  become 
weaker,  nor  his  pursuit  of  truth  less  honest  or  ardent,  but  when  his 
abilities  were  matured,  his  knowledge  greater,  his  judgment  more 
sober;  if  there  be  any  who,  in  youth,  are  suffering  the  same  dis- 
tress which  befell  him,  let  his  conduct  be  their  example,  and  the 
blessing  which  was  vouchsafed  to  him,  their  hope  and  consolation. 
In  a  letter  from  that  friend  to  myself  of  the  date  of  February  14, 
1819,  I  find  the  following  extract,  which  gives  so  true  and  so  con- 
siderate an  account  of  this  passage  in  Arnold's  life,  that  you  may 
be  pleased  to  insert  it. 

"  I  have  not  talked  with  Arnold  lately  on  the  distressing 
thoughts  which  he  wrote  to  you  about,  but  I  am  fearful,  from  his 
manner  at  times,  that  he  has  by  no  means  got  rid  of  them,  though 
I  feel  quite  confident  that  all  will  be  well  in  the  end.  The  subject 
of  them  them  is  that  most  awful  one,  on  which  all  very  inquisitive 
reasoning  minds  are,  I  believe,  most  liable  to  such  temptations — 
I  mean  the  doctrine  of  the  blessed  Trinity.  \  o  not  start,  my  dear 
Coleridge:  I  do  not  believe  that  Arnold  has  any  serious  scruples 
of  the  understanding  about  it,  but  it  is  a  defect  of  his  mind  that 
he  cannot  get  r!d  of  a  certain  feeling  of  objections — and  particu- 
larly when,  as  he  fancies,  the  bias  is  so  strong  upon  him  to  decide 
one  way  from  interest ;  he  scruples  doing  what  I  advise  him,  which 
is,  to  put  down  the  objections  by  main  force  whenever  they  arise 
in  his  mind,  fearful  that  in  so  doing  he  shall  be  violating  his  con- 
science for  maintenance'  sake.  I  am  still  inclined  to  think  with 
you  that  the  wisest  thing  he  could  do  would  be  to  take  John  M. 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  37 

(a  young  pupil  whom  I  was  desirous  of  placing  under  his  care) 
and  a  curacy  somewhere  or  other,  and  cure  himself  not  by  physic, 
i.  e.  reading  and  controversy,  but  by  diet  and  regimen,  i.  e.  holy 
living.  In  the  mean  time  what  an  excellent  fellow  he  is.  I  do 
think  that  one  might  safely  say  as  some  one  did  of  some  other, 
'  One  had  better  have  Arnold's  doubts  than  most  men's  certain- 
ties.' " 

I  believe  I  have  exhausted  my  recollections ;  and  if  I  have 
accomplished  as  I  ought,  what  I  proposed  to  myself,  it  will  be 
hardly  necessary,  for  me  to  sum  up  formally  his  character  as  an 
Oxford  under-graduate.  At  the  commencement  a  boy — and  at 
the  close  retaining,  not  ungracefully,  much  of  boyish  spirits,  frolic, 
and  simplicity  ;  in  mind  vigorous,  active,  clear-sighted,  industrious, 
and  daily  accumulating  and  assimilating  treasures  of  knowledge ; 
not  averse  to  poetry,  but  delighting  rather  in  dialectics,  philosophy, 
and  history,  with  less  of  imaginative  than  reasoning  power ;  in 
argument  bold  almost  to  presumption,  and  vehement ;  in  temper 
easily  roused  to  indignation,  yet  more  easily  appeased  and  entirely 
free  from  bitterness  ;  fired  indeed,  by  what  he  deemed  ungenerous 
or  unjust  to  others,  rather  than  by  any  sense  of  personal  wrong  ; 
somewhat  too  little  deferential  to  authority  ;  yet  without  any  real 
inconsistency  loving  what  was  good  and  great  in  antiquity  the 
more  ardently  and  reverently  because  it  was  ancient ;  a  casual  or 
unkind  observer  might  have  pronounced  him  somewhat  too  pug- 
nacious in  conversation  and  too  positive.  I  have  given,  I  believe, 
the  true  explanation  ;  scarcely  any  thing  would  have  pained  him 
more  than  to  be  convinced  that  he  had  been  guilty  of  want  of 
modesty,  or  of  deference  where  it  was  justly  due  ;  no  one  thought 
these  virtues  of  more  sacred  obligation.  In  heart,  if  I  can  speak 
with  confidence  of  any  of  the  friends  of  my  youth,  I  can  of  his, 
that  it  was  devout  and  pure,  simple,  sincere,  affectionate  and 
faithful. 

It  is  time  that  I  should  close:  already,  I  fear, -I  have  dwelt 
with  something  like  an  old  man's  prolixity  on  passages  of  my 
youth,  forgetting  that  no  one  can  take  the  same  interest  in  them 
which  I  do  myself;  that  deep  personal  interest  must,  however,  be 
my  excuse.  Whoever  sets  a  right  value  on  the  events  of  his  life 
for  good  or  for  evil,  will  agree  that  next  in  importance  to  the  recti- 
tude of  his  own  course  and  the  selection  of  his  partner  for  life,  and 
far  beyond  all  the  wealth  or  honours  which  may  reward  his  labour, 
far  even  beyond  the  unspeakable  gift  of  bodily  health,  are  the 
friendships  which  he  forms  in  youth.  That  is  the  season  when 
natures  soft  and  pliant  grow  together,  each  becoming  part  of  the 
other,  and  coloured  by  it ;  thus  to  become  one  in  heart  with  the 
good,  and  generous,  and  devout,  is,  by  God's  grace,  to  become,  in 
measure,  good,  and  generous,  and  devout.  Arnold's  friendship  has 
been  one  of  the  many  blessings  of  my  life.  I  cherish  tbe  memory 
of  it  with  mournful  gratitude,  and  I  cannot  but  dwell  with  linger- 
ing fondness  on  the  scene  and  the  period  which  first  brought  us 


38 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


together.  Within  the  peaceful  walls  of  Corpus  I  made  friends,  of 
whom  all  are  spared  me  but  Arnold  !— he  has  fallen  asleep— but 
the  bond  there  formed,  which  the  lapse  of  years  and  our  differing 
walks  in  life  did  not  unloosen,  and  which  strong  opposition  of 
opinions  only  rendered  more  intimate  ;  though  interrupted  in  time, 
I  feel  not  to  be  broken — may  I  venture,  without  unseasonable 
solemnity,  to  express  the  firm  trust,  that  it  will  endure  for  ever  in 
eternity. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Stanley, 

Very  truly  yours, 

J.  T.  C. 


CHAPTER  II. 


LIFE    AT    LALEHAM. 

The  society  of  the  Fellows  of  Oriel  College  then,  as  for  some 
time  afterwards,  numbered  amongst  its  members  some  of  the  most 
rising  men  in  the  University,  and  it  is  curious  to  observe  the  list 
which,  when  the  youthful  scholar  of  Corpus  was  added  to  it,  con- 
tained the  names  of  Copleston,  Davison,  Whately,  Keble,  Hawkins, 
and  Hampden,  and  shortly  after  he  left  it,  those  of  Newman  and 
Pusey,  the  former  of  whom  was  elected  into  his  vacant  Fellow- 
ship. Amongst  the  friends  with  whom  he  thus  became  acquainted 
for  the  first  time,  may  chiefly  be  mentioned  Dr.  Hawkins,  since 
Provost  of  Oriel,  to  whom  in  the  last  year  of  his  life  he  dedicated 
his  Lectures  on  Modern  History,  and  Dr.  Whately,  afterwards 
Principal  of  St.  Alban's  Hall,  and  now  Archbishop  of  Dublin, 
towards  whom  his  regard  was  enhanced  by  the  domestic  inter- 
course which  was  constantly  interchanged  in  later  years  between 
their  respective  families,  and  to  whose  writings  and  conversations 
he  took  an  early  opportunity  of  expressing  his  obligations  in  the 
Preface  to  his  first  volume  of  Sermons,  in  speaking  of  the  various 
points  on  which  the  communication  of  his  friend's  views  had 
"  extended  or  confirmed  his  own."  For  the  next  four  years  he 
remained  at  Oxford  taking  private  pupils,  and  reading  extensively 
in  the  Oxford  libraries,  an  advantage  which  he  never  ceased  to 
remember  gratefully  himself,  and  to  impress  upon  others,  and  of 
which  the  immediate  results  remain  in  a  great  number  of  MSS., 
both  in  the  form  of  abstracts  of  other  works,  and  of  original 
sketches  on  history  and  theology.  They  are  remarkable  rather  as 
proofs  of  industry  than  of  power,  and  the  style  of  all  his  composi- 
tions, both  at  this  time  and  for  some  years  later,  is  cramped  by  a 
stiffness  and  formality  alien  alike  to  the  homeliness  of  his  first 
published  works  and  the  vigour  of  his  later  ones,  and  strikingly 
'  recalling  his  favourite  lines, 

"  The  old  man  clogs  our  earliest  years, 
And  simple  childhood  comes  the  last." 

But  already  in  the  examination  for  the  Oriel  Fellowships,  Dr. 
Whately  had  pointed  out  to  the  other  electors  the  great  capability 
of  "  growth"  which  he  believed  to  be  involved  in  the  crudities  of 
the  youthful  candidate's  exercises,  and  which,  even  in  points  where 


40  LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

he  was  inferior  to  his  competitors,  indicated  an  approaching  supe- 
riority. And  widely  different  as  were  his  juvenile  compositions  in 
many  points  from  those  of  his  after  life,  yet  it  is  interesting  to  ob- 
serve in  them  the  materials  which  those  who  knew  the  pressure  of 
his  numerous  avocations  used  to  wonder  when  he  could  have  ac- 
quired, and  to  trace  amidst  the  strangest  contrast  of  his  general 
thoughts  and  style  occasional  remarks  of  a  higher  strain,  which  are 
in  striking,  though  in  some  instances  perhaps  accidental,  coinci- 
dence with  some  of  his  later  views.  He  endeavoured  in  his  histor- 
ical reading  to  follow  the  plan,  which  he  afterwards  recommended 
in  his  Lectures,  of  making  himself  thoroughly  master  of  some  one 
period, — the  15th  century,  with  Philip  de  Comines  as  his  text  book, 
seems  to  have  been  the  chief  sphere  of  his  studies, — and  the  first 
book  after  his  election  which  appears  in  the  Oriel  library  as  taken 
out  in  his  name,  is  Rymer's  Foedera.  Many  of  the  judgments  of 
his  maturer  years  on  Gibbon,  Livy,  and  Thucydides,  are  to  be 
found  in  a  MS.  of  1815,  in  which,  under  the  name  of  "  Thoughts 
on  History,"  he  went  through  the  characteristics  of  the  chief  ancient 
and  modern  historians.  And  it  is  almost  startling,  in  the  midst  of 
a  rhetorical  burst  of  his  youthful  Toryism  in  a  journal  of  1815,  to 
meet  with  expressions  of  real  feeling  about  the  social  state  of  Eng- 
land such  as  might  have  been  written  in  his  latest  years;  or  amidst 
the  commonplace  remarks  which  accompany  an  analysis  of  St. 
Paul's  Epistles  and  Chrysostom's  Homilies,  in  1818,  to  stumble  on 
a  statement,  complete  as  far  as  it  goes,  of  his  subsequent  doctrine 
ot  the  identity  of  Church  and  State. 

Meanwhile  he  had  been  gradually  led  to  fix  upon  his  future 
course  in  life.  In  December,  1818,  he  was  ordained  deacon  at  Ox- 
ford ;  and  on  August  11th,  1820,  he  married  Mary,  youngest  daugh- 
ter of  the  Rev.  John  Penrose,  Rector  of  Fledborough,  in  Notting- 
hamshire, and  sister  of  one  of  his  earliest  school  and  college  friends, 
Trevenen  Penrose ;  having  previously  settled  in  1S19  at  Laleham, 
near  Staines,  with  his  mother,  aunt,  and  sister,  where  he  remained 
for  the  next  nine  years,  taking  seven  or  eight  young  men  as  pri- 
vate pupils  in  preparation  for  the  Universities,  for  a  short  time  in  a 
joint  establishment  with  his  brother  in-law,  Mr.  Buckland,  and 
afterwards  independently  by  himself. 

In  the  interval  which  had  elapsed  between  the  end  of  his  under- 
graduate career  at  Oxford,  and  his  entrance  upon  life,  had  taken 
place  the,  great  change  from  boyhood  to  manhood,  and  with  it  a 
corresponding  change  or  growth  of  character,  more  marked  and 
more  important  than  at  any  subsequent  period  of  his  life.  There 
was  indeed  another  great  step  to  be  taken  before  his  mind  reached 
that  later  stage  of  development  which  was  coincident  with  his  tran- 
sition from  Laleham  to  Rugby.  The  prosaic  and  matter  of  fact 
element  which  has  been  described  in  his  early  Oxford  life  still  re- 
tained its  predominance,  and  to  a  certain  extent  dwarfed  and  nar- 
rowed his  sphere  of  thought ;  the  various  principles  of  political  and 
theological  science  which  contained  in  germ  all  that  was  to  grow 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


41 


out  of  them,  had  not  yet  assumed  their  proper  harmony  and  pro- 
portions; his  feelings  of  veneration,  if  less  confined  than  in  later 
years,  were  also  less  intense ;  his  hopes  and  views,  if  more  prac- 
ticable and  more  easily  restrained  by  the  advice  of  others,  were  also 
less  wide  in  their  range,  and  less  lofty  in  their  conception. 

But,  however  great  were  the  modifications  which  his  character 
subsequently  underwent,  it  is  the  change  of  tone  at  this  time,  be- 
tween the  earlier  letters  of  this  period  (such  as  the  one  or  two  first 
of  the  ensuing  series)  and  those  which  immediately  succeed  them, 
that  marks  the  difference  between  the  high  spirit  and  warm  feelings 
of  his  youth  and  the  fixed  earnestness  and  devotion  which  hence- 
forth took  possession  of  his  whole  heart  and  will.  Whatever  may 
have  been  the  outward  circumstances  which  contributed  to  this — 
the  choice  of  a  profession — the  impression  left  upon  him  by  the 
sudden  loss  of  his  elder  brother — the  new  and  to  him  elevating  in- 
fluences of  married  life — the  responsibility  of  having  to  act  as  the 
guide  and  teacher  of  others — it  was  now  for  the  first  time  that  the 
principles,  which  before  he  had  followed  rather  as  a  matter  of 
course,  and  as  held  and  taught  by  those  around  him,  became  em- 
phatically part  of  his  own  convictions,  to  be  embraced  and  carried 
out  for  life  and  for  death. 

From  this  time  forward  such  defects  as  were  peculiar  to  his 
boyhood  and  early  youth  entirely  disappear;  the  indolent  habits — 
the  morbid  restlessness  and  occasional  weariness  of  duty — the  in- 
dulgence of  vague  schemes  without  definite  purpose — the  intellec- 
tual doubts  which  beset  the  first  opening  of  his  mind  to  the  reali- 
ties of  religious  belief,  when  he  shared  at  least  in  part  the  state  of 
perplexity  which  in  his  later  sermons  he  feelingly  describes  as  the 
severest  of  earthly  trials,  and  which  so  endeared  to  him  throughout 
life  the  story  of  the  confession  of  the  Apostle  Thomas — all  seem  to 
have  vanished  away  and  never  again  to  have  diverted  him  from 
the  decisive  choice  and  energetic  pursuit  of  what  he  set  before  him 
as  his  end  and  duty.     From  this  time  forward  no  careful  observer 
can  fail  to  trace  that  deep  consciousness  of.the  invisible  world,  and 
that  power  of  bringing  it  before  him  in  the  midst  and  through  the 
means  of  his  most  active  engagements,  which  constituted  the  pecu- 
liarity of  his  religious  life,  and  the  moving  spring  of  his  whole 
life.     It  was  not  that  he  frequently  introduced  sacred  names  in 
writing  or  in  conversation,  or  that  he  often  dwelt  on  divine  interpo- 
sitions ;  where  many  would   have   done  so   without  scruple,   he 
would  shrink  from  it,  and  in  speaking  of  his  own  religious  feelings, 
or  in  appealing  to  the  religious  feelings  of  others,  he  was,  except  to 
those  most  intimate  with  him,  exceedingly  reserved.     But  what 
was  true  generally  of  the  thorough  interpenetration  of  the  several 
parts  of  his  character,  was  peculiarly  true  of  it  in  its  religious  as- 
pect :  his  natural  faculties  were  not  unclothed,  but  clothed  upon ; 
they  were  at  once  coloured  by,  and  gave   a  colour  to,  the  belief 
which  they  received.     It  was  in  his  common  acts  of  life,  whether 
public  or  private,  that  the  depth  of  his  religious  convictions   most 

4 


42  LIFE   OP   DR.  ARNOLD. 

visibly  appeared ;  it  was  in  his  manner  of  dwelling  on  religious 
subjects,  that  the  characteristic  tendencies  of  his  mind  chiefly  dis- 
played themselves. 

Accordingly,  whilst  it  is  impossible,  for  this  reason,  to  under- 
stand his  religious  belief  except  through  the  knowledge  of  his 
actual  life  and  his  writings  on  ordinary  subjects,  it  is  impossible, 
on  the  other  hand,  to  understand  his  life  and  writings  without 
bearing  in  mind  how  vivid  was  his  realization  of  those  truths  of 
the  Christian  Revelation  on  which  he  most  habitually  dwelt.  It 
was  this  which  enabled  him  to  undertake  labours  which  without 
such  a  power  must  have  crushed  or  enfeebled  the  spiritual  growth 
which  in  him  they  seemed  only  to  foster.  It  was  the  keen  sense 
of  thankfulness  consciously  awakened  by  every  distinct  instance 
of  his  many  blessings,  which  more  than  any  thing  else  explained 
his  close  union  of  joyousness  with  seriousness.  In  his  even  tenor 
of  life  it  was  difficult  for  any  one  who  knew  him  not  to  imagine 
"  the  golden  chain  of  heavenward  thoughts  and  humble  prayers 
by  which,  whether  standing  or  sitting,  in  the  intervals  of  work 
or  of  amusement,"  he  ';  linked  together"  his  "  more  special  and 
solemn  devotions,"  (Serm.  vol.  iii.  p.  277,)  or  not  to  trace  some- 
thing of  the  consciousness  of  an  invisible  presence  in  the  collect- 
edness  with  which,  at  the  call  of  his  common  duties,  he  rose  at 
once  from  his  various  occupations  ;  or  in  the  calm  repose  which, 
in  the  midst  of  his  most  Active  labours,  took  all  the  disturbing 
accidents  of  life  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  made  toil  so  real  a 
pleasure,  and  relaxation  so  real  a  refreshment  to  him.  And  in 
his  solemn  and  emphatic  expressions  on  subjects  expressly  reli- 
gious ;  in  his  manner  of  awful  reverence  when  speaking  of  God 
or  of  the  Scriptures  ;  in  his  power  of  realizing  the  operation  of 
something  more  than  human,  whether  in  his  abhorrence  of  evil, 
or  in  his  admiration  of  goodness  ; — the  impression  on  those  who 
heard  him  was  often  as  though  he  knew  what  others  only  be- 
lieved, as  though  he  had  seen  what  others  only  talked  about. 
"  No  one  could  know  him  even  a  little,"  says  one  who  was  him- 
self not  amongst  his  most  intimate  friends,  "  and  not  be  struck  by 
his  absolute  wrestling  with  evil,  so  that  like  St.  Paul  he  seemed 
to  be  battling  with  the  wicked  one,  and  yet  with  the  feeling  of 
God's  help  on  his  side,  scorning  as  well  as  hating  him." 

Above  all,  it  was  necessary  for  a  right  understanding,  not  only 
of  his  religious  opinions  but  of  his  whole  character,  to  enter  into 
the  peculiar  feeling  of  love  and  adoration  which  he  entertained 
towards  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ — peculiar  in  the  distinctness  and 
intensity  which,  as  it  characterized  almost  all  his  common  im- 
pressions, so  in  this  case  gave  additional  strength  and  meaning 
to  those  feelings  with  which  he  regarded  not  only  His  work  of 
Redemption  but  Himself,  as  a  living  Friend  and  Master.  "  In 
that  unknown  world  in  which  our  thoughts  become  instantly  lost," 
it  was  his  real  support  and  delight  to  remember  that  "  still  there  is 
one  object  on  which  our  thoughts  and  imaginations  may  fasten,  no 


LIFE  OP   DR.  ARNOLD.  43 

less  than  our  affections ;  that  amidst  the  light,  dark  from  excess 
of  brilliance,  which  surrounds  the  throne  of  God,  we  may  yet  dis- 
cern the  gracious  form  of  the  Son  of  Man."  (Serm.  vol.  iii.  p.  90.) 
In  that  consciousness  which  pressed  upon  him  at  times  even 
heavily,  of  the  difficulty  of  considering  God  in  his  own  nature,  be- 
lieving as  he  did  that  "  Providence,  the  Supreme  Being,  the  Deity, 
and  other  such  terms  repel  us  to  an  infinite  distance,"  and  that  the 
revelation  of  the  Father,  in  Himself  unapproachable,  is  to  be  look- 
ed upon  rather  as  the  promise  of  another  life,  than  as  the  support 
of  this  life,  it  was  to  him  a  thought  of  perhaps  more  than  usual 
comfort  to  feel  that  "  our  God"  is  "  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  the  image 
of  the  invisible  God,"  and  that  "  in  Him  is  represented  all  the 
fulness  of  the  Godhead,  until  we  know  even  as  we  are  known." 
(vol.  v.  p.  222.)  And  with  this  full  conviction  both  of  his  con- 
science and  understanding,  that  he  of  whom  he  spoke  was  "still 
the  very  selfsame  Jesus  in  all  human  affections  and  divine  ex- 
cellences ;"  there  was  a  vividness  and  tenderness  in  his  conception 
of  Him,  on  which,  if  one  may  so  say,  all  his  feelings  of  human 
friendship  and  affection  seemed  to  fasten  as  on  their  natural  object, 
"bringing  before  him  His  actions,  imaging  to  himself  His  very 
voice  and  look,"  there  was  to  him  (so  to  speak)  a  greatness  in  the 
image  thus  formed  of  Him,  on  which  all  his  natural  instincts  of 
reverence,  all  his  range  of  historical  interest,  all  his  admiration 
of  truth  and  goodness  at  once  centered.  "  Where  can  we  find  a 
name  so  holy  as  that  we  may  surrender  our  whole  souls  to  it, 
before  which  obedience,  reverence  without  measure,  intense  hu- 
mility, most  unreserved  adoration  may  all  be  duly  rendered?" 
was  the  earnest  inquiry  of  his  whole  nature  intellectual  and  mo- 
ral, no  less  than  religious.  And  the  answer  to  it  in  like  manner 
expressed  what  he  endeavoured  to  make  the  rule  of  his  own  per- 
sonal conduct,  and  the  centre  of  all  his  moral  and  religious  con- 
victions :  "  One  name  there  is,  and  one  alone,  one  alone  in  hea- 
ven and  earth — not  truth,  not  justice,  not  benevolence,  not  Christ's 
mother,  not  His  holiest  servants,  not  his'  blessed  sacraments,  nor 
His  very  mystical  body  the  Church,  but  Himself  only  who  died 
for  us  and  rose  again,  Jesus  Christ,  both  God  and  man."  (Serm. 
vol.  iv.  p.  210.) 

These  were  the  feelings  which,  though  more  fully  developed 
with  the  advance  of  years,  now  for  the  first  time  took  thorough 
possession  of  his  mind  ;  and  which  struck  upon  his  moral  nature 
at  this  period,  with  the  same  kind  of  force  (if  one  may  use  the 
comparison)  as  the  new  views,  which  he  acquired  from  time  to 
time  of  persons  and  principles  in  historical  or  philosophical  specu- 
lations, impressed  themselves  upon  his  intellectual  nature.  There 
is  naturally  but  little  to  interrupt  the  retirement  of  his  life  at  Lale- 
ham,  which  was  only  broken  by  the  short  tours  in  England  or 
on  the  Continent,  in  which  then,  as  afterwards,  he  employed  his 
vacations.  Still  it  is  not  without  interest  to  dwell  on  these  years 
the  profound  peace  of  which  is  contrasted  so  strongly  with  the  al- 


44  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

most  incessant  agitations  of  his  subsequent  life,  and  "  to  remain 
awhile"  (thus  applying  his  own  words  on  another  subject)  "  on 
the  high  ground  where  the  waters  which  are  hereafter  to  form 
the  separate  streams"  of  his  various  social  and  theological  views, 
"  lie  as  yet  undistinguished  in  their  common  parent  lake." 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  exact  notions  of  his  future  course 
which  presented  themselves  to  him,  it  is  evident,  that  he  Was  not 
insensible  to  the  attraction  of  visions  of  extensive  influence,  and  al- 
most to  his  latest  hour  he  seems  to  have  been  conscious  of  the 
existence  of  the  temptation  within  him,  and  of  the  necessity  of 
contending  against  it.  "  I  believe,"  he  said,  many  years  after- 
wards, in  speaking  of  these  early  struggles  to  a  Rugby  pupil  who 
was  consulting  him  on  the  choice  of  a  profession, — "  I  believe  that 
naturally  I  am  one  of  the  most  ambitious  men  alive,"  and  "  the 
three  great  objects  of  human  ambition,"  he  added,  to  which  alone 
he  could  look  as  deserving  the  name,  were  "  to  be  the  prime  minis- 
ter of  a  great  kingdom,  the  governor  of  a  great  empire,  or  the 
Avriter  of  works  which  should  live  in  every  age  and  in  every  coun- 
try." But  in  some  respects  the  loftiness  of  his  aims  made  it  a 
matter  of  less  difficulty  to  confine  himself  at  once  to  a  sphere  in 
which,  whilst  he  felt  himself  well  and  usefully  employed,  he  felt 
also  that  the  practical  business  of  his  daily  duties  acted  as  a  check 
upon  his  own  inclinations  and  speculations.  Accordingly,  when 
he  entered  upon  his  work  at  Laleham,  he  seems  to  have  regarded 
it  as  his  work  for  life.  "  I  have  always  thought,"  he  writes  in 
1823,  "  with  regard  to  ambition,  that  I  should  like  to  be  aut  Caesar 
aut  nullus,  and  as  it  is  pretty  well  settled  for  me  that  I  shall  not  be 
Caesar,  I  am  quite  content  to  live  in  peace  as  nullus." 

It  was  a  period  indeed  on  which  he  used  himself  to  look  back, 
even  from  the  wider  usefulness  of  his  later  years,  almost  with  a 
fond  regret,  as  to  the  happiest  time  of  his  life.  "  Seek  ye  first  the 
kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness,  and  then  all  other  things 
shall  be  added  to  you,"  was  a  passage  to  which  now  more  than 
any  other  time  he  was  in  the  habit  of  recurring  as  one  of  peculiar 
truth  and  comfort.  His  situation  supplied  him  exactly  with  that 
union  of  retirement  and  work  which  more  than  any  other  condi- 
tion suited  his  natural  inclinations,  and  enabled  him  to  keep  up 
more  uninterrupted  than  was  ever  again  in  his  power  the  commu- 
nication which  he  so  much  cherished"  with  his  friends  and  rela- 
tions. Without  undertaking  any  directly  parochial  charge,  he 
was  in  the  habit  of  rendering  constant  assistance  to  Mr.  Hearn,  the 
curate  of  the  place,  both  in  the  parish  church  and  workhouse,  and 
in  visiting  the  villagers — thus  uniting  with  his  ordinary  occupa- 
tions greater  means  than  he  was  afterwards  able  to  command,  of 
familiar  intercourse  with  his  poorer  neighbours,  which  he  always 
so  highly  valued.  Bound  as  he  was  to  Laleham  by  all  these  ties, 
he  long  loved  to  look  upon  it  as  his  final  home  ; — -and  the  first 
reception  of  the  tidings  of  his  election  at  Rugby  was  overclouded 
with  deep  sorrow  at  leaving  the  scene  of  so  much  happiness. 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  45 

Years  after  he  had  left  it,  he  still  retained  his  early  affection  for  it, 
and  till  he  had  purchased  his  house  in  Westmoreland,  he  enter- 
tained a  lingering  hope  that  he  might  return  to  it  in  his  old  age, 
when  he  should  have  retired  from  Rngby.  Often  he  would  revisit 
it,  and  delighted  in  renewing  his  acquaintance  with  all  the  families 
of  the  poor  whom  he  had  known  during  his  residence  ;  in  showing 
to  his  children  his  former  haunts;  in  looking  once  again  on  his 
favourite  views  of  the  great  plain  of  Middlesex— the  lonely  walks 
along  the  quiet  banks  of  the  Thames — the  retired  garden,  with 
its  "  Campus  Martius,"  and  its  "  wilderness  of  trees,"  which  lay 
behind  his  house,  and  which  had  been  the  scenes  of  so  many 
sportive  games  and  serious  conversations  —  the  churchyard  of 
Laleham,  then  doubly  dear  to  him  as  containing  the  graves  of  his 
infant  child  whom  he  buried  there  in  1832,  and  of  his  mother,  his 
aunt,  and  his  sister  Susannah,  who  had  long  formed  almost  a  part 
of  his  own  domestic  circle,  and  whom  he  lost  within  a  few  years 
after  his  departure  to  Rugby. 

His  general  view  of  his  work  as  a  private  tutor  is  best  given  in 
his  own  words  in  1831,  to  a  friend  who  was  about  to  engage  in  a 
similar  occupation. 

"  I  know  it  has  a  bad  name,  but  my  wife  and  I  always  happened  to  be 
fond  of  it,  and  if  I  were  to  leave  Rugby  for  no  demerit  of  my  own,  I  would 
take  to  it  again  with  all  the  pleasure  in  life.  I  enjoyed,  and  do  enjoy,  the 
society  of  youths  of  seventeen  or  eighteen,  for  they  are  all  alive  in  limbs  and 
spirits  at  least,  if  not  in  mind,  while  in  older  persons  the  body  and  spirits 
often  become  lazy  and  languid  without  the  mind  gaining  any  vigour  to 
compensate  for  it.  Do  not  take  your  work  as  a  dose,  and  I  do  not  think 
you  will  find  it  nauseous.  I  am  sure  you  will  not,  if  your  wife  does  not,  and 
if  she  is  a  sensible  woman,  she  will  not  either  if  you  do  not.  The  misery  of 
private  tuition  seems  to  me  to  consist  in  this,  that  men  enter  upon  it  as 
a  means  to  some  further  end ;  are  always  impatient  for  the  time  when 
they  may  lay  it  aside  ;  whereas  if  you  enter  upon  it  heartily  as  your  life's 
business,  as  a  man  enters  upon  any  other  profession,  you  are  not  then  in 
danger  of  grudging  every  hour  you  give  to  it,  and  thinking  of  how  much 
privacy  and  how  much  society  it  is  robbing  you ;  but  you  take  to  it  as  a 
matter  of  course,  making  it  your  material  occupation,  and  devote  your  time 
to  it,  and  then  you  find  that  it  is  in  itself  full  of  interest,  and  keeps  life's  cur- 
rent fresh  and  wholesome  by  bringing  you  in  such  perpetual  contact  with 
all  the  spring  of  youthful  liveliness.  I  should  say,  have  your  pupils  a  good 
deal  with  you,  and  be  as  familiar  with  them  as  you  possibly  can.  I  did  this 
continually  more  and  more  before  I  left  Laleham,  going  to  bathe  with  them, 
leaping  and  all  other  gymnastic  exercises  within  my  capacity,  and  some- 
times sailing  or  rowing  with  them.  They  I  believe  always  liked  it,  and  I 
enjoyed  it  myself  like  a  boy,  and  found  myself  constantly  the  better  for  it." 

In  many  respects  his  method  at  Laleham  resembled  the  plan 
which  he  pursued  on  a  larger  scale  at  Rngby.  Then,  as  after- 
wards, he  had  a  strong  sense  of  the  duty  of  protecting  his  charge, 
at  whatever  risk  to  himself,  from  the  presence  of  companions  who 
were  capable  only  of  exercising  an  evil  influence  over  their  asso- 
ciates ;  and,  young  as  he  was,  he  persisted  in  carrying  out  this 
principle,  and  in  declining  to  take  any  additional  pupils  as  long  as 
he  had  under  him  any  of  such  a  character,  whom  yet  he  did  not 


46  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

feel  himself  justified  in  removing  at  once.  And  in  answer  to  the 
request  of  his  friends  that  he  would  raise  his  terms,  "  I  am  con- 
firmed in  my  resolution  not  to  do  so,"  he  writes  in  1827,  "  lest  I 
should  get  the  sons  of  very  great  people  as  my  pupils  whom  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  sophronize."  In  reply  to  a  friend  in  1821, 
who  had  asked  his  advice  in  a  difficult  case  of  dealing  with  a 
pupil, 

"  I  have  no  doubt,"  he  answers,  "  that  you  have  acted  perfectly  right ; 
for  lenity  is  seldom  to  be  repented  of;  and  besides,  if  you  should  find  that  it  has 
been  ill  bestowed,  you  can  have  recourse  to  expulsion  after  all.  But  it  is 
clearly  right  to  try  your  chance  of  making  an  impression ;  and  if  you  can 
make  any  at  all,  it  is  at  once  your  justification  and  encouragement  to  pro- 
ceed. It  is  very  often  like  kicking  a  football  up  hill ;  you  kick  it  onwards 
twenty  yards,  and  it  rolls  back  nineteen ;  still  you  have  gained  one  yard, 
and  thus  in  a  good  many  kicks  you  make  some  progress.  This,  however,  is 
on  the  supposition  that  the  pupil's  fault  is  axyaoia  and  not  y.axia;  for  if  he  laughs 
behind  your  back  at  what  you  say  to  him,  he  will  corrupt  others,  and  then 
there  is  no  help  for  it,  but  he  must  go.  This  is  to  me  all  the  difference  :  I 
would  be  as  patient  as  I  possibly  could  with  irresolution,  unsteadiness,  and 
fits  of  idleness;  but  if  a  pupil  has  set  his  mind  to  do  nothing,  but  considers 
all  the  work  as  so  much  fudge,  which  he  will  evade  if  he  can,  I  have  made 
up  my  resolution  that  I  will  send  him  away  without  scruple  ;  for  not  to 
speak  of  the  heartless  trouble  that  such  an  animal  would  give  to  myself,  he  is 
a  living  principle  of  mischief  in  the  house,  being  ready  at  all  times  to  pervert 
his  companions  ;  and  this  determination  I  have  expressed  publicly,  and  if  I 
know  myself  I  will  act  upon  it,  and  I  advise  you  most  heartily  to  do  the 

same.     Thus,  then,  with  Mr. ,  when  he  appeared  penitent  and  made 

professions  of  amendment,  you  were  clearly  right  to  give  him  a  longer  trial. 
If  he  be  sincere,  however  unsteady  and  backsliding,  he  will  not  hurt  the 
principles  of  your  other  pupils  ;  for  he  will  not  glory  in  his  own  misconduct, 
which  I  suppose  is  the  danger :  but  if  you  have  reason  to  think  that  the 
impression  you  made  on  him  was  only  temporary,  and  that  it  has  since  en- 
tirely gone  away,  and  his  own  evil  principles  as  well  as  evil  practices  are 
in  vigour,  then  I  would  advise  you  to  send  him  off  without  delay  ;  for  then 
taking  the  mischief  he  will  do  to  others  into  the  account,  the  football  rolls 
down  twenty-five  yards  to  your  kick  of  twenty,  and  that  is  a  losing  game." 

u,E/&i.ntr]  oSivt]  nolJ.a  yuoviovra  ntg  jirjdivoq  y.garf'eiv  "  he  writes,  ''  must 
be  the  feelings  of  many  a  working  tutor  who  cannot  open  the  eyes  of  his 
pupils  to  see  what  knowledge  is, — I  do  not  mean  human  knowledge  only, 
but  '  wisdom.' " 

"  You  could  scarcely  conceive  the  rare  instances  of  ignorance  that  I 
have  met  with  amongst  them.  One  had  no  notion  of  what  was  meant  by 
an  angle';  another  could  not  tell  how  many  Gospels  there  are,  nor  could 
he,  after  mature  deliberation,  recollect  any  other  names  than  Matthew, 
Mark,  and  Luke  ;  and  a  third  holds  the  first  concord  in  utter  contempt,  and 
makes  the  infinitive  mood  supply  the  place  of  the  principal  verb  in  the  sen- 
tence without  the  least  suspicion  of  any  impropriety.  My  labour,  therefore, 
is  more  irksome  than  I  have  ever  known  it ;  but  none  of  my  pupils  give  me 
any  uneasiness  on  the  most  serious  points,  and  five  of  them  staid  the  sacra- 
ment when  it  was  last  administered.  I  ought  constantly  to  impress  upon 
my  mind  how  light  an  evil  is  the  greatest  ignorance  or  dulness  when  com- 
pared with  habits  of  profligacy,  or  even  of  wilful  irregularity  and  riotous- 
ness." 

"  I  regret  in  your  son,"  he  says,  (in  writing  to  a  parent,)  "  a  carelessness 
which  does  not  allow  him  to  think  seriously  of  what  he  is  living  for,  and  to 
do  what  is  right  not  merely  as  a  matter  of  regularity,  but  because  it  is  a 
duty.     I  trust  you  will  not  think  that  I  am  meaning  any  thing  more  than  my 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  47 

words  convey,  or  that  what  I  am  regretting  in  your  son  is  not  to  be  found  in 
nineteen  out  of  every  twenty  young  men  of  his  age ;  but  I  conceive  that  you 
would  wish  me  to  form  my  desire  of  what  your  son  should  be,  not  according 
to  the  common  standard,  but  according  to  the  highest, — to  be  satisfied  with 
no  less  in  him  than  I  should  have  been  anxious  to  find  in  a  son  of  my  own. 
He  is  capable  of  doing  a  great  deal ;  and  I  have  not  seen  any  thing  in 
him  which  has  called  for  reproof  since  he  has  been  with  me.  I  am  only  de- 
sirous that  he  should  work  more  heartily, — just,  in  short,  as  he  would  work 
if  he  took  an  interest  of  himself  in  his  own  improvement.  On  this,  of  course, 
all  distinction  in  Oxford  must  depend ;  but  much  more  than  distinction  de- 
pends on  it ;  for  the  difference  between  a  useful  education,  and  one  which  does 
not  affect  the  future  life,  rests  mainly  on  the  greater  or  less  activity  which  it 
has  communicated  to  the  pupil's  mind,  whether  he  has  learned  to  think,  or 
to  act,  and  to  gain  knowledge  by  himself,  or  whether  he  has  merely  followed 
passively  as  long  as  there  was  some  one  to  draw  him." 

It  is  needless  to  anticipate  the  far  more  extended  influence 
which  he  exercised  over  his  Rugby  scholars,  by  describing  in  detail 
the  impression  produced  upon  his  pupils  at  Laleham.  Yet  the 
mere  difference  of  the  relation  in  which  he  stood  towards  them  in 
itself  gave  a  peculiar  character  to  his  earlier  sphere  of  education, 
and  as  such  may  best  be  described  in  the  words  of  one  amongst 
those  whom  he  most  esteemed,  Mr.  Price,  who  afterwards  became 
one  of  his  assistant-masters  at  Rugby.1 

"  Nearly  eighteen  years  have  passed  away  since  I  resided  at  Laleham, 
and  I  had  the  misfortune  of  being  but  two  months  as  a  pupil  there.  I  am 
unable,  therefore,  to  give  you  a  complete  picture  of  the  Laleham  life  of  my 
iate  revered  tutor ;  I  can  only  impart  to  you  such  impressions  as  my  brief 
sojourn  there  has  indelibly  fixed  in  my  recollection. 

"  The  most  remarkable  thing  which  struck  me  at  once  on  joining  the 
Laleham  circle  was,  the  wonderful  healthiness  of  tone  and  feeling  which 
prevailed  in  it.  Every  thing  about  me  I  immediately  found  to  be  most  real ; 
it  was  a  place  where  a  new  comer  at  once  felt  that  a  great  and  earnest  work 
was  going  forward.  Dr.  Arnold's  great  power  as  a  private  tutor  resided  in 
this,  that  he  gave  such  an  intense  earnestness  to  life.  Every  pupil  was 
made  to  feel  that  there  was  a  work  for  him  to  do — that  his  happiness  as  well 
as  his  duty  lay  in  doing  that  work  well.  Hence,  an  indescribable  zest  was 
communicated  to  a  young  man's  feeling  about  life;  a  strange  joy  came  over 
him  on  discovering  that  he  had  the  means  of  being  useful,  and  thus  of  being 
happy  ;  and  a  deep  respect  and  ardent  attachrhent  sprang  up  towards  him 
who  had  taught  him  thus  to  value  life  and  his  own  self,  and  his  work  and 
mission  in  this  world.  All  this  was  founded  on  the  breadth  and  comprehen- 
siveness of  Arnold's  character,  as  well  as  its  striking  truth  and  reality ;  on 
the  unfeigned  regard  he  had  for  work  of  all  kinds,  and  the  sense  he  had  of 
its  value  both  for  the  complex  aggregate  of  society,  and  the  growth  and  per- 
fection of  the  individual.  Thus  pupils  of  the  most  different  natures  were 
keenly  stimulated ;  none  felt  that  he  was  left  out,  or  that,  because  he  was 
not  endowed  with  large  powers  of  mind,  there  was  no  sphere  open  to  him  in 

1  I  cannot  allow  Mr.  Price's  name  to  appear  in  these  pages,  without  expressing  how 
much  I  am  indebted  to  him  for  the  assistance  which,  amidst  his  many  pressing  duties, 
he  has  rendered  to  this  work,  not  only  here,  but  throughout,  and  which  in  many  cases, 
from  his  long  knowledge  and  complete  understanding  of  Dr.  Arnold's  views  and  charac- 
ter, he  alone  could  have  rendered.  Nothing,  indeed,  but  the  very  fact  of  the  perpetual 
recurrence  of  instances  in  which  I  have  availed  myself  not  only  of  his  suggestions  but  of 
his  words,  would  have  prevented  me  from  more  frequently  acknowledging  obligations 
for  which  I  here  wish  to  return  my  thanks,  however  inadequately,  once  for  all. 


48  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

the  honourable  pursuit  of  usefulness.  This  wonderful  power  of  making  all 
his  pupils  respect  themselves,  and  of  awakening  in  them  a  consciousness  oi 
the  duties  that  God  had  assigned  to  them  personally,  and  of  the  consequent 
reward  each  should  have  of  his  labours,  was  one  of  Arnold's  most  character- 
istic features  as  a  trainer  of  youth ;  he  possessed  it  eminently  at  Rugby  ; 
but,  if  I  may  trust  my  own  vivid  recollections,  he  had  it  quite  as  remarkably 
at  Laleham.  His  hold  over  all  his  pupils  I  know  perfectly  astonished  me. 
It  was  not  so  much  an  enthusiastic  admiration  for  genius,  or  learning,  or  elo- 
quence which  stirred  within  them  ;  it  was  a  sympathetic  thrill,  caught  from 
a  spirit  that  was  earnestly  at  work  in  the  world — whose  work  was  healthy, 
sustained,  and  constantly  carried  forward  in  the  fear  of  God — a  work  that 
was  founded  on  a  deep  sense  of  its  duty  and  its  value  ;  and  was  coupled 
with  such  a  true  humility,  such  an  unaffected  simplicity,  that  others  could 
not  help  being  invigorated  by  the  same  feeling,  and  with  the  belief  that  they 
too  in  their  measure  could  go  and  do  likewise. 

"  In  all  this  there  was  no  excitement,  no  predilection  for  one  class  of 
work  above  another;  no  enthusiasm  for  any  one-sided  object;  but  an  hum- 
ble, profound,  and  most  religious  consciousness  that  work  is  the  appointed 
calling  of  man  on  earth,  the  end  for  which  his  various  faculties  were  given, 
the  element  in  which  his  nature  is  ordained  to  devolope  itself,  and  in  which  his 
progressive  advance  towards  heaven  is  to  lie.  Hence,  each  pupil  felt  assured 
of  Arnold's  sympathy  in  his  own  particular  growth  and  character  of  talent ;  in 
striving  to  cultivate  his  own  gifts,  in  whatever  direction  they  might  lead  him, 
he  infallibly  found  Arnold  not  only  approving,  but  positively  and  sincerely 
valuing  for  themselves  the  results  he  had  arrived  at ;  and  that  approbation  and 
esteem  gave  a  dignity  and  a  worth  both  to  himself  and  his  labour. 

"  His  humility  was  very  deeply  seated ;  his  respect  for  all  knowledge 
sincere.  A  strange  feeling  passed  over  the  pupil's  mind  when  he  found 
great,  and  often  undue,  credit  given  him  for  knowledge  of  which  his  tutor 
was  ignorant.  But  this  generated  no  conceit :  the  example  before  his  eyes 
daily  reminded  him  that  it  was  only  as  a  means  of  usefulness,  as  an  improve- 
ment of  talents  for  his  own  good  and  that  of  others,  that  knowledge  was  val- 
ued. He  could  not  find  comfort  in  the  presence  of  such  reality,  in  any  shal- 
low knowledge. 

"  There  was  then,  as  afterwards,  great  simplicity  in  his  religious  char- 
acter. It  was  no  isolated  part  of  his  nature,  it  was  a  bright  and  genial  light 
shining  on  every  branch  of  his  life.  He  took  very  great  pains  with  the  Di- 
vinity lessons  of  his  pupils:  and  his  lectures  were  admirable,  and,  I  distinct- 
ly remember,  very  highly  prized  for  their  depth  and  originality.  Neither 
generally  in  ordinary  conversation,  nor  in  his  walks  with  his  pupils,  was  his 
style  of  speaking  directly  or  mainly  religious :  but  he  was  ever  very  ready 
to  discuss  any  religious  question  ;  whilst  the  depth  and  truth  of  his  nature, 
and  the  earnestness  of  his  religious  convictions  and  feelings,  were  ever 
bursting  forth,  so  as  to  make  it  strongly  felt  that  his  life,  both  outward  and 
inward,  was  rooted  in  God. 

"  In  the  details  of  daily  business,  the  quantity  of  time  that  he  devoted  to 
his  pupils  was  very  remarkable.  Lessons  began  at  seven,  and  with  the  in- 
terval of  breakfast  lasted  till  nearly  three ;  then  he  would  walk  with  his 
pupils,  and  dine  at  half-past  five.  At  seven  he  usually  had  some  lesson  on 
hand  ;  and  it  was  only  when  we  all  were  gathered  up  in  the  drawing-room 
after  tea,  amidst  young  men  on  all  sides  of  him,  that  he  would  commence 
work  for  himself,  in  writing  his  Sermons  or  Roman  History. 

"  Who  that  ever  had  the  happiness  of  being  at  Laleham,  does  not  re- 
member the  lightness  and  joyousness  of  heart,  with  which  he  would  romp 
and  play  in  the  garden,  or  plunge  with  a  boy's  delight  into  the  Thames  ;  or 
the  merry  fun  with  which  he  would  battle  with  spears  with  his  pupils  ? 
Which  of  them  does  not  recollect  how  the  Tutor  entered  into  his  amuse- 
ments with  scarcely  less  glee  than  himself? 

"  But  I  must  conclude :  I  do  not  pretend  to  touch  on  every  point.     I  have 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


49 


told  you  what  struck  me  most,  and  I  have  tried  to  keep  away  all  remem- 
brance of  what  he  was  when  I  knew  him  better.  I  have  confined  myself  to 
the  impression  Laleham  left  upon  me." 

B.  Price. 


The  studies  which  most  occupied  his  spare  time  at  Laleham 
were  philology  and  history,  and  he  employed  himself  chiefly  on  a 
Lexicon  of  Thucydides,  and  also  on  an  edition  of  that  author 
with  Latin  notes,  subsequently  exchanged  for  English  ones,  a 
short  History  of  Greece,  never  finished  or  published,  and  on  articles 
on  Roman  History  from  the  times  of  the  Gracchi  to  that  of  Tra- 
jan, written  for  the  Encyclopaedia  Metropolitana,  between  1821  and 
1827. 

It  was  in  1825  that,  through  the  recommendation  of  Archdea- 
con Hare,  he  first  became  acquainted  with  Niebuhr's  Hi-story  of 
Rome.  In  the  study  of  this  work,  which  was  the  first  German 
book  he  ever  read,  and  for  the  sake  of  reading  which  he  had 
learned  that  language,  a  new  intellectual  world  dawned  upon 
him,  not  only  in  the  subject  to  which  it  related,  but  in  the  disclo- 
sure to  him  of  the  depth  and  research  of  German  literature, 
which  from  that  moment  he  learned  more  and  more  to  ap- 
preciate, and,  as  far  as  his  own  occupations  would  allow  him,  to 
emulate. 

On  his  view  of  Roman  History  its  effect  was  immediate  :  "  It 
is  a  work  (he  writes  on  first  perusing  it)  of  such  extraordinary 
ability  and  learning,  that  it  opened  wide  before  my  eyes  the  extent 
of  my  own  ignorance ;"  and  he  at  once  resolved  to  delay  any  in- 
dependent work  of  his  own  till  he  had  more  completely  studied 
the  new  field  of  inquiry  suggested  to  him,  in  addition  to  the  doubts 
he  had  himself  already  expressed  as  to  the  authenticity  of  much 
of  the  early  Roman  history  in  one  of  his  first  articles  in  the  Ency- 
clopaedia Metropolitana.  In  an  article  in  the  Quarterly  Review  of 
1825  he  was  (to  use  Niebuhr's  own  words  of  thanks  to  him  in  the 
second  edition  of  his  first  volume,  Note  1053  i.  p.  451,  Eng.  Transl.) 
"  the  scholar  who  introduced  the  first  edition  of  this  history  to  the 
English  public  ;"  and  the  feeling  which  had  dictated  this  friendly 
notice  of  it  grew  with  years.  The  reluctance  which  he  had  at 
first  entertained  to  admit  the  whole  of  Niebuhr's  conclusions,  and 
which  remained  even  to  1832,  when  in  regard  to  his  views  of  an- 
cient history  he  was  inclined  to  "charge  him  with  a. tendency  to 
excessive  skepticism,"  (Pref.  to  1st  ed.  of  2nd  vol.  of  Thucyd.  p. 
xiv.,)  settled  by  degrees  into  a  determination  "  never  to  differ  from 
him  without  a  full  consciousness  of  the  probability  that  further  in- 
quiry might  prove  him  to  be  right ;"  (Pref.  to  Hist,  of  Rome,  vol.  i. 
p.  x. ;)  and  his  admiration  for  him  rose  at  last  into  a  sentiment  of 
personal  veneration,  which  made  him,  as  he  used  to  say,  "  at  once 
emulous  and  hopeless,  rendering  him  jealous  for  Niebuhr's  reputa- 
tion, as  if  for  his  own,  and  anxious,  amidst  the  pressure  of  his  other 
occupations,  to  undertake,  or  at  least  superintend,  the  translation  of 


50  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

the  third  volume  when  it  was  given  up  by  Hare  and  Thirlwall, 
from  a  desire  to  have  his  name  connected  with  the  translation  of 
that  great  work,  which  no  one  had  studied  more  or  admired  more 
entirely."  But  yet  more  than  by  his  mere  reading,  all  these  feel- 
ings towards  Niebuhr,  towards  Germany,  and  towards  Roman  his- 
tory, were  strengthened  by  his  visit  to  Rome  in  1827,  and  by  the 
friendship  which  he  there  formed  with  Chevalier  Bunsen,  successor 
to  Niebuhr  as  minister  at  the  Papal  court.  He  was  at  Rome  only 
thirteen  days,  but  the  sight  of  the  city  and  of  the  neighbourhood, 
to  which  he  devoted  himself  to  the  almost  entire  exclusion  of  the 
works  of  art,  gave  him  a  living  interest  in  Rome  which  he  had 
before  wanted  and  which  he  never  lost.  The  Chevalier  Bun- 
sen  he  saw  no  more  till  1838  ;  but  the  conversation  which  he  had 
there  enjoyed  with  him  formed  the  ground  of  an  unbroken  inter- 
course by  letters  between  them :  by  his  encouragement  he  was 
principally  induced  in  later  years  to  resume  the  History  of  Rome, 
which  he  eventually  dedicated  to  him  ;  whilst  from  the  resem- 
blance in  many  points  of  their  peculiar  pursuits  and  general  views, 
he  used  to  turn  with  enthusiastic  delight  to  seek  for  his  sympathy 
from  the  isolation  in  which  he  often  seemed  to  be  placed  in  his 
own  country. 

But  now,  as  afterwards,  he  found  himself  most  attracted  to- 
wards the  Interpretation  of  Scripture  and  the  more  practical  aspect 
of  Theology  ;  and  he  was  only  restrained  from  entering  upon  the 
study  of  them  more  directly,  partly  by  diffidence  in  his  own  powers, 
partly  by  a  sense  that  more  time  was  needed  for  their  investiga- 
tion than  he  had  at  his  command.  His  early  intimacy  with  the 
leading  men  of  the  then  Oriel  school,  remarkable  as  it  was  for  ex- 
hibiting a  union  of  religious  earnestness  with  intellectual  activity, 
and  distinct  from  any  existing  party  amongst  the  English  clergy, 
contributed  to  foster  the  independence  which  characterized  his  the- 
ological and  ecclesiastical  views  from  the  first  time  that  he  took 
any  real  interest  in  serious  matters.  And  he  used  to  look  back  to 
a  visit  to  Dr.  Whately,  then  residing  on  his  cure  in  Suffolk,  as  a 
marked  era  in  the  formation  of  his  views,  especialy  as  opening  to 
his  mind,  or  impressing  upon  it  more  strongly,  some  of  the  opinions 
on  which  he  afterwards  laid  so  much  stress  with  regard  to  the 
Christian  Priesthood. 

But  although  in  the  way  of  modification  or  confirmation  his 
thoughts  owed  much  to  the  influence  of  others,  there  was  always, 
even  at  this  less  stirring  period  of  his  mind,  an  original  spring 
within.  The  distinctness  and  force  with  which  the  words  and 
acts  recorded  in  the  Gospel  History  came  before  him,  seem  to  have 
impressed  him  early  with  a  conviction  that  there  was  something 
in  them  very  different  from  what  was  implied  in  the  common  mode 
of  talking  and  acting  on  religious  subjects.  The  recollections  of 
his  conversations  which  have  been  preserved  from  this  period, 
abound  with  expressions  of  his  strong  sense  of  "  the  want  of  Chris- 
tian principle  in  the  literature  of  the  day,"  and  an  anxious  fore- 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  51 

boding  of  the  possible  results  which  might  thence  ensue  in  the  case 
of  any  change  in  existing  notions  and  circumstances.  "  I  fear,"  he 
said,  "  the  approach  of  a  greater  struggle  between  good  and  evil 
than  the  world  has  yet  seen,  in  which  there  may  well  happen  the 
greatest  trial  to  the  faith  of  good  men  that  can  be  imagined,  if  the 
greatest  talent  and  ability  are  decidedly  on  the  side  of  their  adver- 
saries, and  they  will  have  nothing  but  faith  and  holiness  to  oppose 
to  it."  "  Something  of  this  kind,"  he  said,  "  may  have  been  the 
meaning  or  part  of  the  meaning  of  the  words,  'that  by  signs  and 
wonders  they  should  deceive  even  the  elect.'  What  I  should  be 
afraid  of  would  be,  that  good  men,  taking  alarm  at  the  prevailing 
spirit,  would  fear  to  yield  even  points  they  could  not  maintain, 
instead  of  wisely  giving  them  up  and  holding  on  where  they 
could."  Hence  one  object  of  his  early  attempts  at  his  Roman 
History  was  the  hope,  as  he  said,  that  its  tone  might  be  such 
"  that  the  strictest  of  what  is  called  the  Evangelical  party  would 
not  object  to  putting  it  into  the  hands  of  their  children."  Hence 
again,  he  earnestly  desired  to  see  some  leading  periodical  taking  a 
decidedly  religious  tone,  unconnected  with  any  party  feeling  : — 

"  It  would  be  a  most  happy  event,"  he  writes  in  1822,  "  if  a  work  which 
has  so  great  a  sale,  and  contains  so  much  curious  information,  and  has  so 
much  the  tone  of  men  of  the  world,  [as  the  Quarterly  Review,]  could  be 
disciplined  to  a  uniformly  Christian  spirit,  and  appear  to  uphold  good  prin- 
ciples for  their  own  sake,  and  not  merely  as  tending  to  the  maintenance  of 
things  as  they  are.  It  would  be  delightful  to  see  a  work  sincerely  Christian, 
which  should  be  neither  High  Church,  nor  what  is  called  Evangelical." 

Out  of  this  general  sense  of  the  extreme  contrast  between  the 
high  standard  of  the  Christian  religion  and  the  evils  of  the  ex- 
isting state  of  Christendom,  especially  in  his  own  age  and  country, 
arose  one  by  one  those  views  which,  when  afterwards  formed  into 
a  collected  whole,  became  the  animating  principle  of  his  public  life, 
but  which  it  is  not  necessary  to  anticipate  here,  except  by  indica- 
ting how  rapidly  they  were  in  the  process  of  formation  in  his  own 
mind. 

It  was  now  that  his  political  views  began  to  free  themselves 
alike  from  the  mere  childish  Jacobinism  of  his  boyhood,  and  from 
the  hardly  less  stable  Toryism  which  he  had  imbibed  from  the  in- 
fluence of  his  early  Oxford  friends — a  change  which  is  best  to  be 
seen  in  his  own  words,  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge,  many 
years  afterwards  (Jan.  26,  1840).  And  though  his  interest  in  pub- 
lic affairs  was  much  less  keen  at  this  period  than  in  the  subsequent 
stages  of  his  life,  his  letters  contain,  especially  after  1826,  indica- 
tions of  the  same  lively  sense  of  social  evils,  founded  on  his  know- 
ledge of  history,  which  became  more  and  more  a  part  of  his  habit- 
ual thoughts. 

"  I  think  daily,"  he  said,  in  speaking  of  the  disturbances  in  181 9,  "  of  Thu- 
cydides,  and  the  Corcyrean  sedition,  and  of  the  story  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion, and  of  the  Cassandra-like  fate  of  history,  whose  lessons  are  read  in 
vain  even  to  the  very  next  generation." 


52  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,"  he  writes  in  1826,  "  how  the  present  state  of  the 
country  occupies  my  mind,  and  what  a  restless  desire  I  feel  that  it  were  in 
my  power  to  do  any  good.  My  chief  fear  is,  that  when  the  actual  suffering 
is  a  little  abated,  people  will  go  on  as  usual,  and  not  probing  to  the  bottom 
the  deep  disease  which  is  to  my  mind  ensuring  no  ordinary  share  of  misery 
in  the  country  before  many  years  are  over.  But  we  know  that  it  is  our  own 
fault  if  our  greatest  trials  do  not  turn  out  to  be  our  greatest  anvantages." 

Iii  ecclesiastical  matters  in  like  manner  he  had  already  begun 
to  conceive  the  necessity  of  great  alterations  in  the  Church  Estab- 
lishment, a  feeling  which  at  this  period,  when  most  persons  seem- 
ed to  acquiesce  in  its  existing  state,  was  naturally  stronger  than  in 
the  later  years  of  his  life,  when  the  attacks  to  which  it  was  ex- 
posed from  without  and  from  within,  appeared  at  times  to  endanger 
its  existence. 

"  I  hope  to  be  allowed,  before  I  die,  to  accomplish  something  on  Educa- 
tion, and  also  with  regard  to  the  Church,"  he  writes  in  1826  ;  "  the  last  in- 
deed even  more  than  the  other,  were  not  the  task,  humanly  speaking,  so 
hopeless.  But  the  more  I  think  of  the  matter,  and  the  more  I  read  of  the 
Scriptures  themselves,  and  of  the  history  of  the  Church,  the  more  intense  is 
my  wonder  at  the  language  of  admiration  with  which  some  men  speak  of 
the  Church  of  England,  which  certainly  retains  the  foundation  sure,  as  all 
other  Christian  societies  do,  except  the  Unitarians,  but  has  overlaid  it  with 
a  very  sufficient  quantity  of  hay  and  stubble,  which  I  devoutly  hope  to  see 
burnt  one  day  in  the  fire.  I  know  that  other  Churches  have  their  faults 
also,  but  what  have  I  to  do  with  them  ?  It  is  idle  to  speculate  in  attend  re- 
publicd,  but  to  reform  one's  own  is  a  business  wAich  nearly  concerns  us." 

His  lively  appreciation  of  the  high  standard  of  practical  and 
social  excellence,  enjoined  in  the  Christian  dispensation,  was  also 
guiding  him  to  those  principles  of  interpretation  of  Scripture, 
which  he  applied  so  extensively  in  his  later  works. 

"  The  tendency,"  he  writes  to  Dr.  Hawkins  in  1827,  "  which  so  many 
Christians  have  had  and  still  have,  to  fancy  that  the  goodness  of  the  old 
Patriarchs  was  absolute  rather  than  relative,  and  that  men  who  are  spoken 
of  as  having  had  personal  communication  with  God,  must  have  had  as  great 
knowledge  of  a  future  state  as  ourselves,  is  expressed  in  one  of  G.  Herbert's 
poems,  in  which  he  seems  to  look  upon  the  revelations  of  the  patriarchal 
Church  almost  with  envy,  as  if  they  had  nearer  communion  with  God  than 
Christians  have.  All  which  seems  to  me  to  arise  out  of  a  forgetfulness  or 
misapprehension  of  the  privileges  of  Christians  in  their  communion  with  the 
Holy  Spirit, — and  to  originate  partly  in  the  tritheistic  notions  of  the  Trinity, 
which  make  men  involuntarily  consider  iht  Third  Person  as  inferior  in 
some  degree  to  those  who  are  called  First  and  Second,  whereas  the  Third 
relation  of  the  Deity  to  man  is  rather  the  most  perfect  of  all ;  as  it  is  that  in 
which  God  communes  with  man,  not '  as  a  man  talketh  with  his  friend,'  but 
as  a  Spirit  holding  discourse  invisibly  and  incomprehensibly,  but  more  effec- 
tually than  by  any  outward  address, — with  the  spirits  of  his  creatures.  And 
therefore  it  was  expedient  for  the  disciples  that  God  should  be  with  their 
hearts  as  the  Spirit,  rather  than  speaking  to  their  ears  as  the  Son.  This 
will  give  you  the  clue  to  my  view  of  the  Old  Testament,  which  I  never  can 
look  upon  as  addressed  to  men  having  a  Faith  in  Christ  such  as  Christians 
have,  or  looking  forward  to  eternal  life  with  any  settled  and  uniform  hope." 

Lastly,  the  following  extracts  give  his  approaches  to  his  sub- 
sequent views  on  Church  and  State. 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  53 

"  What  say  you,"  he  writes  in'  1827,  to  Dr.  Whately,  "  to  a  work  on 
7Tohrty.r],  in  the  old  Greek  sense  of  the  word,  in  which  I  should  try  to  apply  the 
principles  of  the  Gospel  to  the  legislation  and  administration  of  a  state  ?  It 
would  begin  with  a  simple  statement  of  the  t*'Ao<;  of  man  according  to  Christi- 
anity, and  then  would  go  on  to  show  how  the  knowledge  of  this  xi Ao?  would 
affect  all  our  views  of  national  wealth,  and  the  whole  question  of  political 
economy ;  and  also  our  practice  witli  regard  to  wars,  oaths,  and  various 
other  relics  of  the  aroix{ia  *0*>  xoa/ioy." 

A  nd  to  Mr.  Blackstone  in  the  same  year : — 

"  I  have  long  had  in  my  mind  a  work  on  Christian  Politics,  or  the  appli- 
cation of  the  Gospel  to  the  state  of  man  as  a  citizen,  in  which  the  whole 
question  of  a  religious  establishment  and  of  the  education  proper  for  Chris- 
tian members  of  a  Christian  commonwealth  would  naturally  find  a  place. 
It  would  embrace  also  an  historical  sketch  of  the  pretended  conversion  of 
the  kingdoms  of  the  world  to  the  kingdom  of  Christ  in  the  fourth  and  fifth 
centuries,  which  I  look  upon  as  one  of  the  greatest  tours  cfaddresse  that 
Satan  ever  played,  except  his  invention  of  Popery.  I  mean  that  by  inducing 
kings  and  nations  to  conform  nominally  to  Christianity,  and  thus  to  get  into 
their  hands  the  direction  of  Christian  society,  he  has  in  a  great  measure 
succeeded  in  keeping  out  the  peculiar  principles  of  that  society  from  any  ex- 
tended sphere  of  operation,  and  in  ensuring  the  ascendency  of  his  own. 
One  real  conversion  there  seems  to  have  been,  that  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  ; 
but  that  he  soon  succeeded  in  corrupting  ;  and  at  the  Norman  Conquest  we 
had  little,  I  suppose,  to  lose  even  from  the  more  direct  introduction  of  Popery 
and  worldly  religion  which  came  in  with  the  conqueror." 

All  these  floating  visions,  which  were  not  realized  till  long  af- 
terwards, are  best  represented  in  the  first  volume  of  his  Sermons, 
which  were  preached  in  the  parish  church  at  Laleham,  and  form 
by  far  the  most  characteristic  record  of  this  period. 

"  My  object,"  he  said  in  his  Preface,  "  has  been  to  bring  the  great  prin- 
ciples of  the  Gospel  home  to  the  hearts  and  practices  of  my  own  country- 
men in  my  own  time — and  particularly  to  those  of  my  own  station  in  society, 
with  whose  sentiments  and  language  I  am  naturally  most  familiar.  And 
for  this  purpose,  I  have  tried  to  write  in  such  a  style  as  might  be  used 
in  real  life,  in  serious  conversation  with  our  friends,  or  with  those  who  asked 
our  advice ;  in  the  language,  in  short,  of  common  life,  and  applied  to  the 
cases  of  common  life ;  but  ennobled  and  strengthened  by  those  principles 
and  feelings  which  are  to  be  found  only  in  the  Gospel." 

This  volume  'is  not  only  in  the  time  of  its  appearance,  but  also 
in  its  style  and  substance,  the  best  introduction  to  all  his  later 
works  ;  the  very  absence  of  any  application  to  particular  classes 
or  states  of  opinion,  such  as  gives  more  interest  to  his  subsequent 
sermons,  is  the  more  fitted  to  exhibit  his  fundamental  views,  often 
not  developed  in  his  own  mind,  in  their  naked  simplicity.  And  it 
is  in  itself  worthy  of  notice,  as  being  the  first  or  nearly  the  first 
attempt,  since  followed  in  many  other  quarters,  at  breaking  through 
the  conventional  phraseology  with  which  English  preaching  had 
been  so  long  encumbered,  and  at  uniting  the  language  of  reality  and 
practical  sense  with  names  and  words  which,  in  the  minds  of  so 
many  of  the  educated  classes,  had  become  closely  associated  with 
notions  of  sectarianism  or  extravagance. 


54  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

It  was  published  in  1828,  immediately  after  his  removal  to 
Rugby,  and  had  a  rapid  circulation.  Many,  both  then  and  long 
afterwards,  who  most  differed  from  some  of  his  more  peculiar  opin- 
ions, rejoiced  in  the  possession  of  a  volume  which  contained  so 
much  in  which  they  agreed,  and  so  little  from  which  they  differed. 
The  objections  to  its  style  or  substance  may  best  be  gathered  from 
the  following  extracts  of  his  own  letters  : 

1.  "  If  the  sermons  are  read,  I  do  not  care  one  farthing  if  the  readers 
think  me  the  most  unclassical  writer  in  the  English  language.  It  will  only 
remove  me  to  a  greater  distance  from  the  men  of  elegant  minds  with  whom 
I  shall  most  loathe  to  be  associated.  But,  however,  I  have  looked  at  the  ser- 
mons again,  with  a  view  to  correcting  the  baldness  which  you  complain  of, 
and  in  some  places,  I  have  endeavoured  to  correct  it.  And  I  again  assure 
you,  that  I  will  not  knowingly  leave  unaltered  any  thing  violent,  harsh,  or 
dogmatical.  I  am  not  conscious  of  the  ex  cathedra,  tone  of  my  sermons — at 
least  not  beyond  what  appears  to  me  proper  in  the  pulpit,  where  one 
does  in  a  manner  speak  ex  cathedra.  But  I  think  my  decided  tone  is  gen- 
erally employed  in  putting  forward  the  sentiments  of  Scripture,  not  in  draw- 
ing my  own  conclusions  from  it." 

2.  In  answer  to  a  complaint  that  "  they  carry  the  standard  so  high  as  to 
unchristianize  half  the  community,"  he  says,  "  I  do  not  see  how  the  standard 
can  be  carried  higher  than  Christ  or  his  Apostles  carry  it,  and  I  do  not  think 
that  we  ought  to  put  it  lower.  I  am  sure  that  the  habitually  fixing  it  so 
much  lower,  especially  in  all  our  institutions  and  public  practice,  has  been 
most  mischievous." 

3.  "  I  am  very  mnch  gratified  by  what  you  say  of  my  sermons  ;  yet 
pained  to  find  that  their  tone  is  generally  felt  to  be  so  hard  and  severe.  I 
believe  the  reason  is,  that  I  mostly  thought  of  my  pupils  in  preaching,  and 
almost  always  of  the  higher  classes,  who  I  cannot  but  think  have  commonly 
very  little  of  the  '  bruised  reed  '  about  them.  You  must  remember  that  I 
never  had  the  regular  care  of  a  parish,  and  therefore  have  seen  compara- 
tively little  of  those  cases  of  a  troubled  spirit,  and  of  a  fearful  and  anxious 
conscience,  which  require  comfort  far  more  than  warning.  But  still,  after 
all,  I  fear  that  the  intense  mercy  of  the  Gospel  has  not  been  so  prominently 
represented  as  it  should  have  been,  while  I  have  been  labouring  to  express 
its  purity." 

Meanwhile,  his  friends  had  frequently  represented  to  him  the 
desirableness  of  a  situation  which  would  secure  a  more  certain 
provision,  and  a  greator  sphere  of  usefulness  than  that  which  he 
occupied  at  Laleham  ;  and  he  had  been  urged,  more  than  once,  to 
stand  for  the  Mastership  at  Winchester,  which  he  had  declined 
first  from  a  distrust  of  his  own  fitness  or  inclination  for. the  office, 
and  afterwards  from  more  general  reasons.  But  the  expense  of 
the  neighbourhood  of  Laleham  had  already  determined  him  to 
leave  it,  and  he  was  framing  plans  for  a  change  of  life,  when,  in 
August,  1827,  the  head-mastership  of  Rugby  became  vacant  by  the 
resignation  of  Dr.  Wool,  who  had  held  it  for  twenty-one  years. 
It  was  not  till  late  in  the  contest  for  the  situation  that  he  finally 
resolved  to  offer  himself  as  a  candidate.  When,  therefore,  his 
testimonials  were  sent  in  to  the  twelve  trustees,  noblemen  and  gen- 
tlemen of  Warwickshire,  in  whom  the  appointment  rests,  the  can- 
vass for  the  office  had  advanced  so  far  as  to  leave  him,  in  the 
opinion  of  himself  and  many  of  his  friends,  but  little  hope  of  sue- 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  55 

cess.  On  the  day  of  the  decision,  the  testimonials  of  the  several 
candidates  were  read  over  in  the  order  in  which  they  had  been 
sent  in  ;  his  own  were  therefore  among  the  last ;  and  whilst  none 
of  the  trustees  were  personally  acquainted  with  him,  few  if  any  of 
them,  owing  to  the  lateness  of  his  appearance,  had  heard  his  name 
before.  His  testimonials  were  few  in  number,  and  most  of  them 
couched  in  general  language,  but  all  speaking  strongly  of  his  qual- 
ifications. Amongst  them  was  a  letter  from  Dr.  Hawkins,  now 
Provost  of  Oriel,  in  which  it  was  predicted  that,  if  Mr.  Arnold  were 
elected  to  the  head-mastership  of  Rugby,  he  would  change  the 
face  of  education  all  through  the  public  schools  of  England.  The 
trustees  had  determined  to  be  guided  entirely  by  the  merits  of  the 
candidates,  and  the  impression  produced  upon  them  by  this  letter, 
and  by  the  general  confidence  in  him  expressed  in  all  the  testimo- 
nials, was  such,  that  he  was  elected  at  once,  in  December,  1827. 
In  June,  1828,  he  received  Priest's  orders  from  Dr.  Howley,  then 
Bishop  of  London  ;  in  April  and  November  of  the  same  year  took 
degree  of  B.D.  and  D.D. ;  and  in  August  entered  on  his  new 
office. 


The  following  letters  and  extracts  have  been  selected,  not  so 
much  as  important  in  themselves,  but  rather  as  illustrating  the 
course  of  his  thoughts  and  general  views  at  this  period. 


LETTERS  FROM  1817  TO  1828. 
I.      TO    J.    T.    COLERIDGE,    ESQ. 


Oxford,  May  28,  1817. 


.  .  .  .  I  thank  you  very  heartily  for  the  kindness  which  all  your 
•letter  displays,  and  I  cannot  better  show  my  sense  of  it,  than  by  telling  you 
without  reserve  my  feelings  and  arguments  on  both  sides  of  the  question. 
The  study  of  the  law,  in  many  respects,  I  think  I  should  like,  and  certainly 
it  holds  out  better  encouragement  to  any  ambitious  particles  which  I  may 
have  in  my  nature  than  the  church  does.  But  I  do  not  think,  if  I  know 
myself,  which  perhaps  is  begging  an  important  question,  that  my  sober 
inclinations  would  lead  me  to  the  law  so  much  as  to  the  church.  I  am  sure 
the  church  would  be  the  best  for  me,  for  as  I  hope  never  to  enter  it  with  light 
views,  so  the  forming  of  my  mind  to  a  proper  sense  of  the  clerical  duties, 
and  then  an  occasion  and  call  for  the  practice  of  them  immediately  succeed- 
ing, would  I  trust  be  most  beneficial  to  me.  To  effect  this,  I  have  great 
advantages  in  the  advice  and  example  of  many  of  my  friends  here  in  Oxford, 
and  whether  I  know  myself  or  not  is  another  question,  but  I  most  sincerely 
feel  that  I  could  with  most  pleasure  devote  myself  to  the  employments  of  a 
clergyman :  and  that  I  never  should  for  a  moment  put  any  prospects  of 
ambition  or  worldly  honour  in  competition  with  the  safe  happiness  which  I 
think  a  clergyman's  life  would  grant  me.  Seriously,  I  am  afraid  of  the  law : 
I  know  how  much  even  here  I  am  led  away  by  various  occupations  from 
those  studies  and  feelings  which  are  essential  to  every  man  ;  and  I  dare  not 
risk  the  consequences  of  such  a  necessary  diversion  of  mind  from  all  religious 
subjects  as  would  be  caused  by  my  attending  to  a  study  so  engrossing  as 
that  of  law.  To  this  I  am  sure  in  your  eyes  nothing  need  be  added ;  but 
besides  I  doubt  whether  my  health  would  support  so  much  reading  and 


56  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

confinement  to  the  house :  and  after  all,  knowing  who  are  at  this  moment 
contending  for  the  prizes  of  the  law,  it  would  I  think  be  folly  to  stake  much 
on  the  chance  of  my  success.  Again,  my  present  way  of  life  enables  me  to 
be  a  great  deal  at  home  with  my  mother,  aunt,  and  sister,  who  are  all  so 
circumstanced,  that  I  should  not  think  myself  justified  in  lightly  choosing 
any  occupation  that  would  separate  me  greatly  from  them.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  I  find  that  I  cannot  conscientiously  subscribe  to  the  articles  of  the 
church,  be  assured  I  never  will  go  into  orders,  but  even  then  I  should  doubt 
whether  I  could  support  either  the  expense  or  labour  of  the  law.  I  hope 
you  have  overrated  my  "  ambitious  disputations  and  democratical "  propen- 
sities ;  if,  indeed,  I  have  not  more  of  the  two  first  than  of  the  last,  I  think  I 
should  not  hesitate  about  my  fitness  for  the  church,  as  far  as  they  are  con- 
cerned. I  think  you  have  not  quite  a  correct  notion  of  my  political  faith; 
perhaps  I  have  not  myself,  but  I  do  not  think  I  am  democratically  inclined, 
and  God  forbid  I  should  ever  be  such  a  clergyman  as  Home  Tooke. 


II.      TO    REV.    GEORGE    CORNISH. 

Laleham,  September  20,  1819. 

Poor  dear  old  Oxford  !  if  I  live  till  I  am  eighty,  and  were  to 

enjoy  all  the  happiness  that  the  warmest  wish  could  desire,  I  should  never 
forget,  or  cease  to  lookback  with  something  of  a  painful  feeling  on  the  years 
we  were  together  there,  and  on  all  the  delights  that  we  have  lost ;  and  1 
look  foward  with  extreme  delight  to  my  intended  journey,  down  to  the  audit 
in  October,  when  I  shall  take  a  long  and  last  farewell  of  my  old  haunts,  and 
will,- if  I  possibly  can,  yet  take  one  more  look  at  Bagley  Wood,  and  the 
pretty  field,  and  the  wild  stream  that  flows  down  between  Bullington  and 
Cowley  Marsh,  not  forgetting  even  your  old  friend,  the  Lower  London  Road. 
Well,  I  must  endeavour  to  get  some  such  associations  to  combine  with 
Laleham  and  its  neighbourhood ;  but  at  present  all  is  harsh  and  ruffled,  like 
woods  in  a  high  wind,  only  I  am  beginning  to  love  my  own  little  study, 
where  I  have  a  sofa  full  of  books,  as  of  old,  and  the  two  verse  books  lying 
about  on  it,  and  a  volume  of  Herodotus ;  and  where  I  sit  up  and  read  or  write 
till  twelve  or  one  o'clock. 


III.      TO    REV.    F.    C.    BLACKSTONE. 

(On  a  proposal  of  a  Mastership  at  Winchester.) 

Laleham,  October  28,  1819. 

I  might  defer  any  discussion  of  the  prospects  which  you  recommend  to 
me  till  we  meet,  were  it  a  subject  on  whicl^  I  could  feel  any  hesitation  in 
making  up  my  mind.  But,  thanking  you  as  I  do  very  sincerely  for  the 
kindness  of  your  suggestion,  the  situation  which  you  advise  me  to  try  for,  is 
one  which  nothing  but  the  most  positive  call  of  duty  would  ever  induce  me  to 
accept,  were  it  even  offered  to  me.  It  is  one  which,  in  the  first  place,  I  know 
myself  very  ill  qualified  to  fill;  and  it  would  besides  completely  upset  every 
scheme  which  I  have  formed  for  my  future  comfort  in  life.  I  know  that 
success  in  my  present  undertaking  is  of  course  doubtful ;  still  my  chance  is, 
I  think,  tolerably  fair,  not  indeed  of  making  my  fortune,  but  of  earning  such 
an  income  as  shall  enable  me  to  live  with  economy  as  a  married  man;  and, 
as  far  as  I  can  now  foresee,  I  should  wish  to  continue  for  many  years  at 
Laleham,  and  the  house,  which  I  have  got  on  a  long  lease,  is  one  which  I 
already  feel  very  well  inclined  to  regard  as  my  settled  and  permanent  home  in 
this  world.    My  present  way  of  life  I  have  tried,  and  am  perfectly  contented 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  57 

with  it :  and  I  know  pretty  well  what  the  life  of  a  master  of  Winchester 
would  be.  and  feel  equally  certain  that  it  would  be  to  me  excessively  disa- 
greeable. I  do  not  think  you  could  say  any  thing  to  shake  me  for  an  instant 
on  this  head  ;  still  believe  me  that  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  the 
friendliness  of  your  recommendation,  which  I  decline  for  reasons  that  in  all 
probability  many  people  would  think  very  empty  and  ridiculous. 


IV.      TO    REV.  JOHN    TUCKER. 

Laleham,  November  20,  1  d19. 

This  day  eight  years,  about  this  time,  we  were  assembled  in  the  Junior 
Common  Room,  to  celebrate  the  first  foundation  of  the  room,  and  had  been 
amused  by  hearing  Bartholomew's  song  about  "  Musical  George,"  and 
;'  Political  Tommy,"  and  now,  of  the  party  then  assembled,  you  are  the  only 
one  still  left  in  Oxford,  and  the  rest  of  us  are  scattered  over  the  face  of  the 
earth  to  our  several  abodes.  There  is  a  "  souvenir  interessant "  for  you,  as 
a  Frenchman  would  say,  and  one  full  well  fitted  for  a  November  evening.^ 
But  do  you  know  that  I  am  half  disposed  to  quarrel  with  you,  instead  of 
giving  you  "  Souvenirs  " — for  did  you  not  covenant  to  write  to  me  first  ? 
....  Indeed,  in  the  pictures  that  I  have  to  form  of  my  future  life,  my  friends 
have  always  held  a  part ;  and  it  has  been  a  great  delight  to  me  to  think, 
that  Mary  will  feel  doubly  and  naturally  bound  to  so  many  of  them,  that  she 
will  have  little  trouble  in  learning  to  love  them,  and  the  benefits  which  I 
have  received  from  my  Oxford  friendships  have  been  so  invaluable,  as  relating 
to  points  of  the  very  highest  importance,  that  it  is  impossible  for  me  ever  to 
forget  them,  or  to  cease  to  look  on  them  as  the  greatest  blessings  I  have  ever 
yet  enjoyed  in  life,  and  for  which  I  have  the  deepest  reason  to  be  most 
thankful.  Being  then  separated  from  you  all,  I  am  most  anxious  that 
absence  should  not  be  allowed  to  weaken  the  regard  we  bear  each  other  ; 
and  besides,  I  cannot  forgo  that  advice  and  assistance  which  I  have  so  long 
been  accustomed  to  rely  on,  and  with  which  I  cannot  as  yet  at  least  safely 
dispense :  for  the  management  of  my  own  mind  is  a  thing  so  difficult,  and 
brings  me  into  contact  with  much  that  is  so  strangely  mysterious,  that  I 
stand  at  times  quite  bewildered,  in  a  chaos  where  I  can  see  no  light  either 
before  or  behind.  How  much  of  all  this  is  constitutional  and  physical  I 
cannot  tell,  perhaps  a  great  deal  of  it :  yet  it  is  surely  dangerous  to  look 
upon  all  the  struggles  of  the  mind  as  arising  from  the  state  of  the  body  or 
the  weather,  and  so  resolved  to  bestow  no  attention  upon  them.  Indeed  I 
think  I  have  far  more  reason  to  be  annoyed  at  the  extraordinary  apathy  and 
abstraction  from  every  thing  good,  which  the  routine  of  the  world's  business 
brings  with  it ;  there  are  whole  days  in  which  all  the  feelings  of  principles 
of  belief,  or  of  Religion  altogether,  are  in  utter  abeyance :  when  one  goes 
on  very  comfortably,  pleased  with  external  and  worldly  comforts,  and  yet 
would  find  it  difficult,  if  told  to  inquire,  to  find  a  particle  of  Christian  princi- 
ple in  one's  whole  mind.  It  seems  all  quite  moved  out  bodily,  and  one  retains 
no  consciousness  of  a  belief  in  any  one  religious  truth,  but  is  living  a  life  of 
virtual  Atheism.  I  suppose  these  things  are  equalized  somehow,  but  I  am 
often  inclined  to  wonder  at  and  to  envy  those  who  seem  never  to  know  what 
mental  trouble  is,  and  who  seem  to  have  nothing  else  to  disturb  them  than 
the  common  petty  annoyances  of  life,  and  when  these  let  them  alone,  then 
they  are  iv  ivnad-eirjai.  But  I  would  compound  for  all  this,  if  I  could 
but  find  that  I  had  any  liking  for  what  I  ought  to  like ;  but  there  is  the 
Sunday  School  here,  for  instance,  which  I  never  visit  without  the  strongest 
reluctance,  and  really  the  thought  of  having  this  to  do  makes  me  quite  dread 
the  return  of  the  Sunday.  I  have  got  it  now  entirely  into  my  own  hands,  so 
attend  it  I  must  and  will,  if  I  can  answer  for  my  perseverance,  but  it  goe# 
sadly  against  me. 

5 


58  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

V.      TO    J.    T.    COLERIDGE,    ESQ. 

Laleham,  November  29,  1819. 

At  last  I  am  going  to  redeem  the  promise  which  I  made  so  long  ago,  and 
to  give  you  some  account  of  our  summa  rerum.  I  have  had  lately  the 
additional  work  of  a  sermon  every  week  to  write,  and  this  has  interfered 
very  much  with  my  correspondence ;  and  I  fear  I  have  not  yet  acquired 
that  careful  economy  of  time  which  men  in  your  profession  often  so  well 
practice,  and  do  not  make  the  most  of  all  the  odd  five  and  ten  minutes'  spaces 
which  I  get  in  the  course  of  the  day.  However,  I  have  at  last  begun  my 
letter,  and  will  first  tell  you  that  I  still  like  my  business  very  well,  and  what 
is  very  comfortable,  I  feel  far  more  confidence  in  myself  than  I  did  at  first, 
and  should  not  now  dread  having  the  sole  management  of  pupils,  which  at 
one  time  I  should  have  shrunk  from.  (After  giving  an  account  of  the  joint 
arrangement  of  the  school  and  the  pupils  with  his  brother-in-law  ;)  Buckland 
is  naturally  fonder  of  the  school,  and  is  inclined  to  give  it.  the  greatest  part 
of  his  attention ;  and  I,  from  my  Oxford  habits,  as  naturally  like  the  other 
part  of  the  business  best;  and  thus  I  have  extended  my  time  of  reading  with 
our  four  pupils  in  the  morning  before  breakfast,  from  one  hour  to  two.  Not 
that  I  dislike  being  in  the  school,  but  quite  the  contrary ;  still,  however,  I 
have  not  the  experience  in  that  sort  of  work,  nor  the  perfect  familiarity  with 
my  grammar  requisite  to  make  a  good  master,  and  I  cannot  teach  Homer  as 
well  as  my  friends  Herodotus  and  Livy,  whom  I  am  now  reading,  I  suppose, 
for  about  the  fiftieth  time. 

Nov.  30th. — I  was  interrupted  last  night  in  the  middle  of  my  letter,  and 
as  the  evening  is  my  only  time  for  such  occupations,  it  cannot  now  go  till 
to-morrow.  You  shall  derive  this  benefit,  however,  from  the  interruption, 
that  I  will  trouble  you  with  no  more  details  about  the  trade ;  a  subject 
which  I  find  growing  upon  me  daily,  from  the  retired  life  we  are  leading, 
and  from  my  being  so  much  engrossed  by  it.  There  are  some  very  pleasant 
families  settled  in  this  place  besides  ourselves ;  they  have  been  very  civil  to  us, 
and  in  the  holidays  I  dare  say  we  shall  see  much  of  them,  but  at  present  I  do 
not  feel  I  have  sufficient  time  to  make  an  acquaintance,  and  cannot  readily 
submit  to  the  needful  sacrifice  of  formal  visits,  &c,  which  must  be  the  pre- 
lude to  a  more  familiar  knowledge  of  any  one.  As  it  is,  my  garden  claims 
a  good  portion  of  my  spare  time  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  when  I  am  not 
engaged  at  home  or  taking  a  walk ;  there  is  always  something  to  interest 
me  even  in  the  very  sight  of  the  weeds  and  litter,  for  then  I  think  how  much 
improved  the  place  will  be  when  they  are  removed ;  and  it  is  very  delightful 
to  watch  the  progress  of  any  work  of  this  sort,  and  observe  the  gradual 
change  from  disorder  and  neglect  to  neatness  and  finish.  In  the  course  of 
the  autumn  I  have  done  much  in  planting  and  altering,  but  these  labours 
are  now  over,  and  I  have  now  only  to  hope  for  a  mild  winter  as  far  as  the 
ahrubs  are  concerned,  that  they  may  not  all  be  dead  when  the  spring  comes. 
Of  the  country  about  us,  especially  on  the  "Surrey  side,  I  have  explored 
much  ;  but  not  nearly  so  much  as  I  could  wish.  It  is  very  beautiful,  and 
some  of  the  scenes  at  the  junction  of  the  heath  country  with  the  rich  valley 
of  the  Thames  are  very  striking.  Or  if  I  do  not  venture  so  far  from  home,  I 
have  always  a  resource  at  hand  in  the  bank  of  the  river  up  to  Staines ; 
which,  though  it  be  perfectly  flat,  has  yet  a  great  charm  from  its  entire 
loneliness,  there  being  not  a  house  any  where  near  it ;  and  the  river  here 
has  none  of  that  stir  of  boats  and  barges  upon  it,  which  makes  it  in  many 

places  as  public  as  the  high  road Of  what  is  going  on  in  the  world, 

or  any  where  indeed  out  of  Laleham,  I  know  little  or  nothing.  I  can  get 
no  letters  from  Oxford,  the  common  complaint  I  think  of  all  who  leave  it ; 
and  if  Penrose  did  not  bring  us  sometimes  a  little  news  from  Eton,  and  Hull 
from  London,  I  should  really,  when  the  holidays  begin,  find  myself  six 
months  behind  the  rest  of  the  world 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  59 

Don  Juan  has  been  with  me  some  weeks,  but  I  am  determined  not  to 
read  it,  for  I  was  so  annoyed  by  some  specimens  that  I  saw  in  glancing  over 
the  leaves,  that  I  will  not  worry  myself  with  any  more  of  it.  I  have  read 
enough  of  the  debates  since  parliament  has  met  to  make  me  marvel  at  the  non- 
sense talked  on  both  sides,  though  I  am  afraid  the  opposition  have  the  palm 
out  and  out.  The  folly  or  the  mischievous  obstinacy  with  which  they  per- 
sist in  palliating  the  excesses  of  the  Jacobins  is  really  scandalous,  though  I 
own  I  do  not  wish  to  see  Carlton  House  trimming  up  the  constitution  as 
if  it  was  an  huzzar's  uniform.  ...  I  feel,  however,  growing  less  and  less 
political. 


VI.      TO    REV.  GEORGE    CORNISH. 

Fledborough,  January  3,  182\ 

I  conclude  that  Tucker  is  with  you,  so  I  will  begin  by 

sending  you  both  my  heartiest  wishes  for  a  happy  new  year  ;  and  for  you 
and  yours,  that  you  may  long  go  on  as  you  have  begun,  and  enjoy  every 
succeeding  New  Year's  Day  better  and  better,  and  have  more  solid  grounds 
for  the  enjoyment  of  it ;  and  for  Tucker,  that  he  may  taste  equal  happiness 
even  if  it  should  not  be  precisely  in  the  same  way.  Well,  here  we  are, 
almost  at  the  extremities  of  the  kingdom ;  Tucker  and  you  at  Sidmouth,  and 

Trevenen  and  I  at  Fledborough We  are  snowed  up  all  round, 

and  shall  be  drowned  with  the  flood  when  it  begins  to  thaw  ;  and  as  for  cold, 
at  nine  a.  m.  on  Saturday,  the  thermometer  stood  at  0.  Alas !  for  my  fin- 
gers.    Good  night  "  to  both  on  ye,"  as  the  poor  crazy  man  used  to  say  in 

Oxford I  saw  Coleridge  when  I  passed  through  town  on  the 

22nd,  and  also  his  little  girl,  one  of  the  nicest  little  children  I  ever  saw.  It 
would  have  formed  a  strange  contrast  with  past  times,  to  have  seen  us  stand- 
ing together  in  his  drawing-room,  he  nursing  the  baby  in  his  arms,  and 
dandling  it  very  skilfully,  and  the  little  animal  in  high  spirits  playing  with 
my  hair  and  clawing  me,  and  laughing  very  amusingly. 

I  found  them  all  very  well,  and  quite  alone  ;  and  since  that  time  I  have 
not  stirred  beyond  these  parishes,  and  except  on  Sundays  have  hardly  gone 
further  than  the  garden  and  the  great  meadows  on  the  Trent  banks.  These 
vast  meadows  were  flooded  and  frozen  before  the  snow  came,  and  being  now 
covered  with  snow,  afford  a  very  exact  picture  of  those  snowy  regions  which 
Thalaba  passed  over,  on  his  way  to  consult  the  great  Simorg  at  Kaf.  I 
never  before  saw  so  uninterrupted  and  level  a  space  covered  with  snow,  and 
the  effect  of  it,  when  the  sun  is  playing  over  it,  is  something  remarkably 
beautiful.  The  river,  too,  as  I  saw  it  in  the  intense  frost  of  Saturday  morn- 
ing, was  uncommonly  striking.  It  had  subsided  to  its  natural  bed  before  the 
6now  came ;  but  the  frost  had  set  in  so  rapidly,  that  the  water  had  been 
arrested  in  the  willows  and  thick  bushes  that  overhang  the  stream,  and  was 
forming  on  them  icicles,  and  as  it  were  fruits  of  crystal  innumerable  on  every 
spray,  while  the  snow  formed  besides  a  wintry  foliage  exactly  in  character 
with  such  wintry  fruit.  The  river  itself  rolled  dark  and  black  between  these 
glittering  banks,  full  of  floating  masses  of  ice,  which  from  time  to  time  dash- 
ed against  each  other,  and  as  you  looked  up  it  in  the  direction  of  the  sun,  it 
smoked  like  a  furnace.  So  much  for  description  !  Well,  now,  I  will  tell  you 
a  marvel.  I  wanted  to  bring  down  some  presents  for  each  of  the  sisters 
here  ;  and  for  Mary  I  brought  no  other  than  George  Herbert's  Divine  Songs, 
which  I  really  bought  out  of  my  own  head,  which  I  like  very  much,  which  I 
endeavour  to  interpret — no  easy  matter  in  the  hard  parts — and  which  I  mean 
to  get  for  myself.  Now  do  you  not  think  I  shall  become  quite  a  right  think- 
ing sort  of  person  in  good  time  ?  You  need  not  despair  of  hearing  that  I  am 
a  violent  admirer  of  Mr.  Addison  and  Mr.  Pope,  and  have  given  up  the  Lord 
Protector. 

I  owe  Tucker  many  thanks  for  his  letter  altogether,  and 


(30  LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

congratulate  him  on  the  Water-Eaton  altar  piece,  as  I  condole  with  him  on 
his  abandonment  of  his  ancient  walks.  He  ought  to  bind  himself  by  vow  to 
visit  once  a  term  each  of  our  old  haunts,  in  mournful  pilgrimage:  and  as  the 
spring  comes  on,  if  the  combined  influence  of  wood-anemones,  and  souvenirs, 
and  nightingales,  does  not  draw  him  to  Bagley  Wood,  I  think  the  case  must 
be  desperate.  I  know  I  shall  myself  cry  once  or  twice  in  the  course  of  the 
next  half  year,  lw  O  ubi  Campi." 


VII.      TO  REV    GEORGE  CORNISH. 

Laleham,  February  21, 1820. 

You  must  know  that  you  are  one  of  three  persons  in  the 

world  to  whom  I  hold  it  wrong  to  write  short  letters ;  that  is  to  say,  you  are 
one  of  three  on  whom  I  can  find  it  in  my  heart  to  bestow  all  my  tediousness ; 
and  therefore,  though  February  23rd  stands  at  the  top  of  the  page,  I  do  not 
expect  that  this  sheet  will  be  finished  for  some  time  to  come.       The  first 
thing  I  must  say  is  to  congratulate  you  on  Charles's  appointment.     If  this 
letter  reaches  you  amid  the  pain  of  parting,  congratulation  will  indeed  seem 
a  strange  word  ;  yet  it  is,  I  think,  a  matter  of  real  joy  after  all;  it  is  just 
what  Charles  seems   best  fitted  for ;  his  principles  and  character  you  may 
fully  depend  on,  and  India  is  of  all  fields  of  honourable  ambition  that  this 
world  offers,  to  my  mind  the  fairest.     You  know  I  always  had  a  sort  of  han- 
kering  after   it   myself,  and  but  that  I  prefer  teaching  Greek  to  learning 
Hindoostanee,  and  fear  that  there  is  no  immediate  hope  of  the  conquest  of 
China,  I  should  have  liked  to  have  seen  the  Ganges  well.     To  your  family 
India  must  seem  natural  ground  ;  and  for  the  separation,  painful  as  it  must 
be,  yet  do  we  not  all  in  reality  part  almost  as  decisively  with  our  friends  when 
we  once  settle  in  life,  even  though  the  ocean  should  not  divide  us  !     How 
little  intercourse  may  I  dare  to  anticipate  in  after  days  with  those  who  for 
so  many  years  have  been  almost  my  constant  companions  ;  and   how  little 
have  I  seen  for  several  years  past  of  my  own  brother  !     But  this  is  prosing. 
If  Charles  be  still  with  you,  give  him  my  kindest  remembrances,  with  every 
wish  for  his  future  happiness ;  it  already  seems  a  dream  to  look  back  on  the 
time  when  he  used  to  come  to  my  rooms  to  read  Herodotus.     Tell  him  I 
retain  some  of  his  scribbling  on  the  pages  of  my  Hederic's  Lexicon,  which 
may  many  a  time  remind  me  of  him,  when  he  is  skirmishing  perhaps  with 
Mahrattas  or  Chinese,  and  I  am  still  going  over  the  old  ground  of  loroyltjs 
a.n6$i£i%  yd*.     You  talk  to  me  of  "cutting  blocks  with  a  razor;"  indeed  it 
does  me  no  good  to  lead  my  mind  to  such  notions ;  for  to  tell  you  a  secret, 
I  am  quite  enough  inclined  of  myself  to  feel  above  my  work,  which  is  very 
wrong  and  very  foolish.     I  believe  I  am  usefully  employed,  and  I  am  sure  I 
am  employed  more  safely  for  myself  than  if  I  had  more  time  for  higher 
studies ;  it  does  my  mind  a  marvellous  deal  of  good,  or  ought  to  do,  to  be 
kept  upon  bread  and  water.  But  be  this  as  it  may,  and  be  the  price  that  I  am 
paying  much  or  little,  I    cannot  forget  for  what  I  am  paying   it.     (After 
speaking  of  his  future  prospects.)     Here,  indeed,  I  sympathize  with  you  in 
the  fear  that  this  earthly  happiness  may  interest  me  too  deeply.      The  hold 
which  a  man's  affections  have  on  him  is  the  more  dangerous  because  the 
less  suspected  ;  and  one  may  become  an  idolater  almost  before  one  feels  the 
least  sense  of  danger.     Then  comes  the  fear  of  losing  the  treasure,  which 
one  may  love  too  fondly ;  and  that  fear  is  indeed  terrible.     The  thought  of 
the  instability  of  one's  happiness  comes  in  well  to  interrupt  its  full  indul- 
gence ;  and  if  often  entertained  must  make  a  man  either  an  Epicurian  or  a 
Christian  in  good  earnest.     Thank  eleven  o'clock  for  stopping  my  prosing  ! 
Good  night,  and  God  bless  you  ! 


LIFE   OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  61 

VIII.       TO    THE    SAME. 

(On  the  Death  of  his  Brother  ) 

Laleham,  December  6,  18Q0. 

It  is  really  quite  an  alarming  time  since  I  wrote  to  yon  in  February ;  for 
I  cannot  count  as  any  thing  the  two  brief  letters  that  passed  between  us  at 
the  time  of  my  marriage.     I  had  intended,  however,  to  have  written  to  you 

a  good  long  one,  so  soon  as  the  holidays  came ;  but,  hearing  from ,  ;i 

few  days  ago,  that  you  had  been  expressing  a  wish  to  hear  from  me,  T  thought. 
I  would  try  to  anticipate  my  intention,  and  dispatch  an  epistle  to  you  forth- 
with. It  has  been  an  eventful  period  for  me  in  many  ways,  since  February 
last, — more  so,  both  for  good  and  for  evil,  than  I  ever  remember  before.  The 
loss  which  we  all  sustained  in  May,  was  the  first  great  affliction  that  ever 
befell  me  ;  and  it  has  been  indeed  a  heavy  one.  At  first  it  came  so  suddenly 
that  I  could  not  feel  it  so  keenly  ;  and  I  had  other  thoughts  besides  upon  me, 
which  would  not  then  allow  me  to  dwell  so  much  upon  it.  But  time  has 
rather  made  the  loss  more  painful  than  less  so  ;  and  now  that  I  am  married, 
and  living  here  calmly  and  quietly.  I  often  think  how  he  would  have  enjoyed 
to  have  come  to  Laleham ;  and  all  the  circumstances  of  his  death  recur  to 
me  like  a  frightful  dream.  It  is  very  extraordinary  how  often  I  dream  that, 
he  is  alive,  and  always  with  the  consciousness  that  he  is  alive,  after  having 
been  supposed  dead ;  and  this  sometimes  has  gone  so  far,  that  I  have  in  my 
dream  questioned  the  reality  of  his  being  alive,  and  doubted  whether  it  were 
not  a  dream,  and  have  been  convinced  that  it  was  not.  so  strongly,  that  I 
could  hardly  shake  off  the  impression  on  waking.  I  have  since  that  lost  an- 
other relation,  my  uncle  Delafield.  who  died  quite  suddenly  at  Hastings,  in 
September;  his  death  fell  less  severely  on  my  mother  and  aunt,  from  follow- 
ing so  near  upon  a  loss  still  more  distressing  to  them :  but  there  was  in  both 
the  same  circumstance,  which  for  the  time  made  the  shock  tenfold  greater, 
that  my  mother  was  expecting  to  see  both  my  brother  and  my  uncle  within  a 
few  days  at  Laleham,  when  she  heard  of  their  respective  deaths.  I  attended 
my  uncle's  funeral  at  Kensington,  and  never  did  I  see  greater  affliction  than 
that  of  his  children,  who  were  all  present.  I  ought  not,  however,  to  dwell 
only  on  the  painful  events  that  have  befallen  us,  when  I  have  so  much  of  a 
different  kind  to  be  thankful  for.  My  mother  is  settled,  with  my  aunt,  and 
Susannah,  in  a  more  comfortable  situation  than  they  have  ever  been  in  since 
we  left  the  Isle  of  Wight.  My  mother  has  got  a  very  good  garden,  which  is 
an  amusement  to  her  in  many  ways,  but  chiefly  as  it  enables  her  to  send  lit- 
tle presents,  &c,  to  her  children  ;  and  Susannah's  crib  lying  in  a  room  open- 
ing to  the  garden,  she  too  can  enjoy  it ;  and  she  has  been  buying  some  flow- 
ering shrubs  this  autumn,  and  planting  them  where  they  will  show  them- 
selves to  her  to  the  best  advantage.  My  aunt  is  better,  I  think,  than  she 
commonly  is ;  and  she  too  enjoys  her  new  dwelling,  and  amuses  herself  in 
showing  Martha  pictures  and  telling  her  stories,  just  as  she  used  to  do  to 
me.  Going  on  from  my  mother's  house  to  Buckland's,  you  would  find  Fran- 
ces, with  two  children  more  than  you  are  acquainted  with 

From  about  a  quarter  before  nine  till  ten  o'clock  every  evening,  I  am  at 
liberty,  and  enjoy  my  wife's  company  fully ;  during  this  time  I  read  out  to 
her,  (I  am  now  reading  to  her  Herodotus,  translating  it  as  I  go  on.)  or  write 
my  Sermons,  when  it  is  my  fortnight  to  preach ;  or  write  letters,  as  I  am 
doing  at  this  moment.  And  though  the  space  of  time  that  I  can  thus  enjoy 
be  but  short,  yet  perhaps  I  relish  it  more  keenly  even  on  this  very  account ; 
and  when  I  am  engaged,  I  ought  to  think  how  very  many  situations  in  life 
might  have  separated  me  from  my  wife's  society,  not  for  hours  only,  but  for 
months,  or  even  years  ;  whereas  now  I  have  not  slept  from  home  once  since 
I  have  been  married;  nor  am  I  likely  for  the  greatest  part  of  the  year  to  do 
so.     The  garden  is  a  constant  source  of  amusement  to  us  both ;  there  are 


(J2  LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

always  some  little  alterations  to  be  made,  some  few  spots  where  an  additional 
shrub  or  two  would  be  ornamental,  something  coming  into  blossom,  or  some 
crop  for  the  more  vulgar  use  of  the  table  coming  into  season ;  so  that  I  can 
always  delight  to  go  round  and  see  how  things  are  going  on.  Our  snow- 
drops are  now  just  thrusting  their  heads  out  of  the  ground,  and  I  to-day 
gathered  a  pink  primrose.  Trevenen  comes  over  generally  about  twice  a 
week  to  see  us,  and  often  stays  to  dine  with  us  ;  Whately  and  Blackstone 
have  also  at  different  times  paid  us  visits,  and  Mary  was  very  much  pleased 

with  them  both We  set  off  for  Fledborough  so  soon  as 

the  holidays  begin,  which  will  be  next  Wednesday  week,  and  think  of  stay- 
ing there  almost  to  the  end  of  them  ;  only  allowing  time  for  a  visit  to  dear 
old  Oxford,  when  I  will  try  hard  to  get  Mary  to  Bagley  Wood,  and  show  her 
the  tree  wdiere  you  and  Tucker  and  I  were  once  perched  all  together.  .  . 
I  am  now  far  better  off  than  I  formerly  was  in  point  of  lectures  ;  for  I  have 
one  in  Thucydides,  and  another  in  Aristotle's  Ethics  ;  if  you  dive  in  the  for- 
mer of  these,  as  I  suppose  you  do,  it  will  be  worth  your  while  to  get  Poppo's 
"  Observationes  Critical  in  Thucydidem,"  a  small  pamphlet  published  at 
Leipzig,  in  1815,  and  by  far  the  best  thing — indeed  one  may  say  the  only 
srood  one — that  has  ever  yet  been  written  on  the  subject.  I  have  been  very 
highly  delighted  with  it,  and  so  I  think  would  any  one  be,  who  has  as  much 
interest  in  Thucydides  as  we  have,  who  have  been  acquainted  with  him  so 
lono-.  Another  point  concerning  my  trade  has  puzzled  me  a  good  deal.  It 
has  been  my  wish  to  avoid  giving  my  pupils  any  Greek  to  do  on  a  Sunday, 
so  that  we  do  Greek  Testament  on  other  days  ;  but  on  the  Sunday  always  do 
some  English  book  ;  and  they  read  so  much,  and  then  I  ask  them  questions 
in  it.  But  I  find  it  almost  impossible  to  make  them  read  a  mere  English 
book  with  sufficient  attention  to  be  able  to  answer  questions  out  of  it ;  or  if 
they  do  cram  themselves  for  the  time,  they  are  sure  to  forget  it  directly 
after.  I  have  been  thinking,  therefore,  of  making  them  take  notes  of  the 
Sermon,  after  our  Oriel  fashion;  but  this  does  not  quite  satisfy  me;  and  as 
you  are  a  man  of  experience,  I  should  like  to  know  what  your  plan  is,  and 
whether  you  have  found  the  same  difficulty  which  I  complain  of.  I  have  a 
great  deal  to  hear  about  you  all,  and  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  tidings  of 
you,  and  especially  to  know  how  Charles  is  going  on,  if  you  have  yet  heard 
from  him ;  and  also  how  Hubert  is  faring,  to  whom  I  beg  you  will  give  my 
love.  It  is  idle  to  lay  schemes  for  a  time  six  months  distant, — but  I  do  hope 
to  see  you  in  Devonshire  in  the  summer,  if  you  are  at  home,  as  we  have 
something  of  a  plan  for  going  into  Cornwall  to  see  my  innumerable  relations 
there.  I  heard  from  Tucker  about  a  week  since, — perhaps  his  last  letter  from 
Oxford ;  it  quite  disturbs  me  to  think  of  it.  And  so  he  will  set  up  at  Mail- 
ing after  all,  and  by  and  by  perhaps  we  shall  see  the  problem  solved, 
whether  he  has  lost  his  heart  or  no.  I  cannot  make  out  when  we  are  all  to 
see  one  another,  if  we  all  take  pupils,  and  all  leave  home  in  the  vacations. 
I  think  we  must  fix  some  inn  on  some  great  road,  as  the  place  where  we  may 
meet  en-passant  once  a  year.  How  goes  on  j)oetry  ?  With  me  it  is  gone, 
I  suppose  for  ever,  and  prose  too,  as  far  as  writing  is  concerned  ;  for  I  do 
nothing  now  in  that  way,  save  sermons  and  letters.  But  this  matters  little. 
Have  you  seen  or  heard  of  Cramer's  book  about  Hannibal's  passage  of  the 
Alps  ?  It  is,  I  think,  exceedingly  good,  and  I  rejoice  for  the  little  club's 
sake.  I  have  been  this  day  to  Egham,  to  sign  my  name  to  a  loyal  address 
to  the  king  from  the  gentlemen  and  householders  of  this  neighbourhood,  ex- 
pressing our  confidence  in  the  wisdom  and  vigour  of  the  constituted  authori- 
ties. I  hope  this  would  please  Dyson.  I  must  now  leave  off  scribbling. 
Adieu,  my  dear  Cornish:  Mary  be^s  to  join  me  in  all  kind  wishes  and  re- 
gards to  you  and  yours;  and  so  would  all  at  the  other  two  houses,  if  they 
were  at  hand. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD  gj 


IX.      TO   J.  T.  COLERIDGE,    ESQ.. 

(In  answer  to  criticisms  on  a  review  of  Poppo's  Observationes  Criticae.) 

Laleham  Garden,  April  25,  1S2I. 

Now  for  your  remarks  on  my  Poppo.     All  clumsiness 

in  the  sentences,  and  want  of  connexion  between  the  parts,  I  will  do  my  best 
to  amend  ;  and  the  censure  on  verbal  criticism  I  will  either  soften  or  scratch 
out  entirely,  for  J.  Keble  objected  to  the  same  part.  The  translations  also  I 
will  try  to  improve,  and  indeed  I  am  aware  of  their  baldness.  The  additions 
which  you  propose  I  can  make  readily;  but  as  to  the  general  plainness  of  the 
style,  I  do  not  think  I  clearly  see  the  fault  which  you  allude  to,  and  to  say 
the  truth,  the  plainness,  i.  e.  the  absence  of  ornament  and  long  words,  is  the 
result  of  deliberate  intention.  At  any  rate,  in  my  own  case,  I  am  sure  an 
attempt  at  ornament  would  make  my  style  so  absurd  that  you  would  your- 
self laugh  at  it.  I  could  not  do  it  naturally,  for  I  have  now  so  habituated 
myself  to  that  unambitious  and  plain  way  of  writing,  and  absence  of  Latin 
words  as  much  as  possible,  that  I  could  not  write  otherwise  without  manifest 
affectation.  Of  course  I  do  not  mean  to  justify  awkwardness  and  clumsy 
sentences,  of  which  I  am  afraid  my  writings  are  too  full,  and  all  which  I  will 
do  my  best  to  alter  wherever  you  have  marked  them ;  but  any  thing  like 
puff,  or  verbal  ornament,  I  cannot  bring  myself  to.  Richness  of  style  I  ad- 
mire heartily,  but  this  I  cannot  attain  to  for  lack  of  power.  All  I  could  do 
would  be  to  produce  a  bad  imitation  of  it,  which  seems  to  me  very  ridicu- 
lous. For  the  same  reason,  I  know  not  how  to  make  the  review  more  strik- 
ing ;  I  cannot  make  it  so  by  its  own  real  weight  and  eloquence,  and  there- 
fore I  think  I  should  only  make  it  offensive  by  trying  to  make  it  fine.  Do 
consider,  what  you  recommend  is  anion;  ccqiotov,  but  I  must  do  what  is 
agiatov  l[i 01.  You  know  you  always  told  me  I  should  never  be  a  poet,  and 
in  like  manner  I  never  could  be  really  eloquent,  for  I  have  not  the  imagina- 
tion or  fullness  of  mind  needful  to  make  me  so 


X.      TO    REV.   JOHN    TUCKER. 

Laleham,  October  21, 1822. 

• I  have  not  much  to  say  in  the  way  of  news  ■  so  I  will 

notice  that  part  of  your  letter  which  speaks  of  my  not  employing  myself  on 
something  theological.  You  must  remember  that- what  I  am  doing  in  Greek 
and  Roman  History  is  only  my  amusement  during  the  single  hour  of  the 
day  that  I  can  employ  on  any  occupation  of  my  own,  namely,  between  nine 
and  ten  in  the  evening.  With  such  limited  time  it  would  be  ridiculous  to 
attempt  any  work  which  required  much  labour,  and  which  could  not  be  pro- 
moted by  my  common  occupations  with  my  pupils.  The  Grecian  History  ie 
just  one  of  the  things  I  can  do  most  easily;  my  knowledge  of  it  beforehand 
is  pretty  full,  and  my  lectures  are  continually  keeping  the  subject  before  my 
mind  ;  so  that  to  write  about  it  is  really  my  recreation ;  and  the  Roman  His- 
tory is  the  same  to  me,  though  in  a  less  degree.  I  could  not  name  any  other 
subject  equally  familiar,  or  which,  in  my  present  circumstances,  would  be 
practicable,  and  certainly  if  I  can  complete  plain  and  popular  Histories  of 
Greece  and  Rome,  of  a  moderate  size,  cleared  of  nonsense  and  unchristian 
principles,  I  do  not  think  I  shall  be  amusing  myself  ill :  for  as  I  now  am,  I 
could  not  do  any  thing  besides  my  proper  work  that  was  not  an  amusement. 
For  the  last  fortnight,  during  which  I  have  had  two  sermons  to  write,  I  have 
not  been  able  to  do  a  word  of  my  History ;  and  it  will  be  the  same  this  week, 
if  1  write  some  letters  which  I  wish  to  write  ;  so  that  you  see  I  am  in  no 
condition  to  undertake  any  thing  of  real  labour.     Be  assured  there  is  nothing 


64  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

I  would  so  gladly  do  as  set  about  a  complete  Ecclesiastical  History ;  and  I 
love  to  fancy  myself  so  engaged  at  some  future  time  if  I  live :  but  to  begin 
such  a  thing  now  would  be  utterly  desperate.  The  want  of  books  alone, 
and  my  inability  to  consult  libraries,  would  be  a  sufficient  hindrance.  I  have 
read  a  new  book  lately,  which  is  rather  an  event  for  me,  Jowett's  Christian 
Researches  in  the  Mediterranean.  You  know  it,  of  course,  and  I  doubt  not 
like  it  as  much  as  I  do,  which  is  very  much  indeed.  It  is  a  very  wonderful 
and  a  very  beautiful  thing  to  see  the  efforts  made  on  so  large  a  scale,  and 
with  motives  so  pure,  to  diffuse  all  good,  both  temporal  and  spiritual ;  and  I 
suppose  that  the  world  is  gradually  dividing  more  and  more  into  two  divided 
parties  of  good  and  evil, — the  lukewarm  and  the  formal  Christians  are,  I 
imagine,  daily  becoming  less  numerous.  I  am  puzzled  beyond  measure 
what  to  think  about  Ireland.  What  good  can  be  done  permanently  with  a 
people  who  literally  do  make  man's  life  as  cheap  as  beasts' ;  and  who  are 
content  to  multiply  in  idleness  and  in  such  beggary  that  the  first  failure  of  a 
crop  brings  them  to  starvation  ?  I  would  venture  to  say  that  luxury  never 
did  half  so  much  harm  as  the  total  indifference  to  comfort  is  doing  in  Ireland, 
by  leading  to  a  propagation  of  the  human  species  in  a  state  of  brutality.  I 
should  think  that  no  country  in  the  world  needs  missionaries  so  much,  and  ia 
none  would  their  success  be  so  desperate. 


XI.      TO    J.    T.    COLERIDGE,    E3Q. 

Laleham,  March  3,  1823. 

I  do  not  know  whether  you  have  ever  seen  John  Keble's 

Hymns.  He  has  written  a  great  number  for  most  of  the  holidays  and  seve- 
ral of  the  Sundays  in  the  year,  and  I  believe  intends  to  complete  the  series. 
I  live  in  hopes  that  he  will  be  induced  to  publish  them ;  and  it  is  my  firm 
opinion  that  nothing  equal  to  them  exists  in  our  language :  the  wonderful 
knowledge  of  Scripture,  the  purity  of  heart,  and  the  richness  of  poetry  which 
they  exhibit,  I  never  saw  paralleled.  If  they  are  not  published,  it  will  be  a 
orreat  neglect  of  doing  good.  I  wish  you  could  see  them  ;  the  contemplation 
of  them  would  be  a  delightful  employment  for  your  walks  between  Hadlow 

Street  and  the  Temple Have  you  heard  any  thing  more  about 

's  Roman  History  ?     I  am  really  anxious  to  know  what  sort  of  a  man 

he  is,  and  whether  he  will  write  like  a  Christian  or  no ;  if  he  will,  I  have 
not  a  wish  to  interfere  with  him  ;  if  not,  I  would  labour  very  hard  indeed  to 
anticipate  him,  and  prevent  an  additional  disgrace  from  being  heaped  upon 
the  historical  part  of  our  literature. 


XII.       TO    THE    REV.  JOHN  TUCKER. 

Laleham,  February  22,  1824. 

My  pupils  all  come  up  into  the  drawing-room  a  little  be- 
fore tea,  and  stay  for  some  time,  some  reading,  others  talking,  playing  chess 
or  backgammon,  looking  at  pictures,  &c, — a  great  improvement  if  it  lasts ; 
and  if  this  fair  beginning  continues,  I  care  not  a  straw  for  the  labour  of  the 
half  year,  for  it  is  not  labour  but  vexation  which  hurts  a  man,  and  I  find  my 
comfort  depends  more  and  more  on  their  good  and  bad  conduct.  They  are 
an  awful  charge,  but  still  to  me  a  very  interesting  one,  and  one  which  I 
could  cheerfully  pursue  till  my  health  or  faculties  fail  me.  Moreover,  I  have 
now  taken  up  the  care  of  the  Workhouse,  i.  e.  as  far  as  going  there  once  a 
week,  to  read  prayers,  and  give  a  sortof  lecture  upon  some  part  of  the  Bible. 
I  wanted  to  see  more  of  the  poor  people,  and  I  found  that,  unless  I  devoted 
a  regular  time  to  it,  I  should  never  do  it,  for  the  hunger  for  exercise  on  the 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


65 


part  of  myself  and  my  horses,  used  to  send  me  out  riding  as  soon  as  my 
work  was  done ;  whereas  noAV  I  give  up  Thursday  to  the  village,  and  it  will 
be  my  own  fault  if  it  does  not  do  me  more  good  than  the  exercise  would. 
You  have  heard,  I  suppose,  of  Trevenen's  tour  with  me  to  Scotland.  Inde- 
pendent of  the  bodily  good  which  it.  did  me,  and  which  I  really  wanted,  I 
have  derived  from  it  the  benefit  of  getting  rid  of  some  prejudices,  for  I  find 
myself  often  thinking  of  Edinburgh  quite  affectionately,  so  great  was  the 
kindness  which  we  met  with  there,  and  so  pleasant  and  friendly  were  most 
of  the  people  with  whom  we  became  acquainted.  As  to  the  scenery,  it  far 
surpassed  all  my  expectations  :  I  shall  never  forget  the  effect  of  the  setting 
sun  on  the  whole  line  of  the  Grampians,  covered  with  snow,  as  we  saw  them 
from  the  steamboat  on  the  Forth  between  Alloa  and  Stirling.  It  was  so 
delightful  also  to  renew  my  acquaintance  with  the  English  Lakes,  and  with 

Wordsworth I  could  lucubrate  largely  de  omni  scibili,  but  paper 

happily  runs  short.  I  am  very  much  delighted  with  the  aspect  of  the  Ses- 
sion of  Parliament,  and  see  with  hearty  gratitude  the  real  reforms  and  the 
purer  spirit  of  government  which  this  happy  rest  from  war  is  every  year,  I 
trust,  gradually  encouraging.  The  West  India  question  is  thorny ;  but  I 
suppose  the  Government  may  entrench  upon  individual  property  for  a  great 
national  benefit,  giving  a  fair  compensation  to  the  parties,  just  as  is  done  in 
every  Canal  Bill.  Nay,  I  cannot  see  why  the  rights  of  the  planters  are 
more  sacred  than  those  of  the  old  despotic  kings  and  feudal  aristocracies 
who  were  made  to  part  with  many  good  things  which  they  had  inherited 
from  their  ancestors  because  the  original  tenure  was  founded  on  wrong ;  and 
so  is  all  slavery;  all  West  Indian  slavery  at  least,  most  certainly. 


X11I.      TO    W.  W.  HULL,  ESft. 

Laleham,  Septeml.er  30,  1824. 

.  .  .  .  I  am  now  working  at  German  in  good  earnest,  and  have  got 
a  master  who  comes  down  here  to  me  once  a  week.  I  have  read  a  good  deal 
of  Julius  Hare's  friend  Niebuhr,  and  have  found  it  abundantly  overpay  the 
labour  of  learning  a  new  language,  to  say  nothing  of  some  other  very  val- 
uable German  books  with  which  I  am  becoming  acquainted,  all  preparatory 
to  my  Roman  History.  I  am  going  to  set  to  work  at  the  "  Coke  upon 
Littleton"  of  Roman  law.  to  make  myself  acquainted,  if  possible,  with  the 
tenure  of  property;  and  I  think  I  shall  apply  to  you  for  the  loan  of  some  of 
your  books  touching  the  civil  law,  and  especially  Justinian's  Institutes.  As 
my  knowledge  increases,  I  only  get  a  clearer  insight  into  my  ignorance ; 
and  this  excites  me  to  do  my  best  to  remove  it  before  I  descend  to  the  Aver- 
nus  of  the  press.  But  I  am  twice  the  man  for  labour  that  I  have  been  lately, 
for  the  last  year  or  two,  because  the  pupils,  I  thank  God,  are  going  on  well ; 
I  have  at  this  moment  the  pleasure  of  seeing  three  of  them  sitting  at  the 
round  table  in  the  drawing-room,  all  busily  engaged  about  their  themes ; 
and  the  general  good  effect  of  their  sitting  with  us  all  the  evening  is  really 
very  surprising. 


XIV.      TO    REV.  JOHN    TUCKER. 

Laleham,  April  5,  1815. 

.  .  .  .  I  am  getting  pretty  well  to  understand  the  history  of  the  Ro- 
man kings,  and  to  be  ready  to  commence  writing.  One  of  my  most  useful 
books  is  dear  old  Tottle's  (Aristotle's)  Politics;  which  give  one  so  full  a 
notion  of  the  state  of  society  and  opinions  in  old  times,  that  by  their  aid  one 
can  pick  out  the  wheat  from  the  chaff  in  Livy  with  great  success.  Mr. 
Penrose  has  lately  mentioned  a  work  by  a  Mr.  Cooper,  in  which  he  applies 


QQ  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

the  prophecies  in  the  eleventh  chapter  of  Daniel  to  Bonaparte. — Have  you 
read  the  work  yourself?  My  own  notion  is,  that  people  try  to  make  out 
from  prophecy  too  much  of  a  detailed  history,  and  thus  I  have  never  seen  a 
single  commentator  who  has  not  perverted  the  truth  of  history  to  make  it 
fit  the  prophecy.  I  think  that,  with  the  exception  of  those  prophecies  which 
relate  to  our  Lord,  the  object  of  prophecy  is  rather  to  delineate  principles 
and  states  of  opinion  which  shall  come,  than  external  events.  I  grant  that 
Daniel  seems  to  furnish  an  exception,  and  I  do  not  know  how  Mr.  Cooper 
has  done  his  work  ;  hut  in  general  commentaries  or  expositions  of  the  proph- 
ecies give  me  a  painful  sense  of  unfairness  in  their  authors,  in  straining  the 
facts  to  agree  with  the  imagined  prediction  of  them.  Have  you  seen  Cob- 
bett's  "  History  of  the  Protestant  Reformation,"  which  he  is  publishing  month- 
ly in  threepenny  numbers  ?  It  is  a  queer  compound  of  wickedness  and  igno- 
rance with  strong  sense  and  the  mention  of  divers  truths  which  have  been  too 
much  disguised  or  kept  in  the  background,  but  which  ought  to  be  generally 
known.  Its  object  is  to  represent  the  Reformation  in  England  as  a  great 
national  evil,  accomplished  by  all  kinds  of  robbery  and  cruelty,  and  tending 
to  the  impoverishment  and  misery  of  the  poor,  and  to  the  introduction  of  a 
careless  clergy  and  a  spirit  of  ignorance  and  covetousness  amongst  every 
body.  It  made  me  groan,  while  reading  it,  to  think  that  the  real  history  and 
effects  of  the  Reformation  are  so  little  known,  and  the  evils  of  the  worldly 
policy  of  Somerset's  and  Elizabeth's  government  so  little  appreciated.  As 
it  is,  Cobbett's  book  can  do  nothing  but  harm,  so  bad  is  its  spirit,  and  so  evi- 
dent its  unfairness. 


XV.      TO    REV.    GEORGE    CORNISH. 


Florence,  July  15,  1826. 


I  wish  I  could  tell  you  something  about  the  people, — but  how  is  it  possi- 
ble, travelling  at  the  rate  that  we  are  obliged  to  do  ?  We  see,  of  course, 
the  very  worst  specimens — innkeepers,  postillions,  and  beggars;  and  one  is 
thus  in  danger  of  getting  an  unfavourable  impression  of  the  inhabitants  in 
epite  of  one's  judgment.  A  matter  of  more  serious  thought,  and  on  which  I 
am  vainly  trying  to  procure  information,  is  the  condition  of  the  lower  orders. 
I  have  long  had  a  suspicion  that  Cobbett's  complaints  of  the  degradation  and 
sufferings  in  the  poor  of  England  contained  much  truth,  though  uttered  by 
him  in  the  worst  possible  spirit.  It  is  certain  that  the  peasantry  here  are  much 
more  generally  proprietors  of  their  own  land  than  with  us;  and  I  should  be- 
lieve them  to  be  much  more  independent  and  in  easier  circumstances.  This 
is,  I  believe,  the  grand  reason  why  so  many  of  the  attempts  at  revolution 
have  failed  in  these  countries.  A  revolution  would  benefit  the  lawyers,  the 
savans,  the  merchants,  bankers,  and  shopkeepers,  but  I  do  not  see  what  the 
labouring  classes  would  gain  by  it.  For  them  the  work  has  been  done 
already,  in  the  destruction  of  the  feudal  tyranny  of  the  nobility  and  great 
men  ;  and  in  my  opinion  this  blessing  is  enough  to  compensate  the  evils  of 
the  French  Revolution ;  for  the  good  endures,  while  the  effects  of  the  mas- 
sacres and  devastations  are  fast  passing  away.  It  is  my  delight  every  where 
to  see  the  feudal  castles  in  ruins,  never,  I  trust,  to  be  rebuilt  or  reoccupied ; 
and  in  this  respect  the  watchword  "  Guerre  aux  chateaux,  Paix  aux  Chau- 
mieres,"  was  prophetic  of  the  actual  result  of  the  French  Revolution.  I  am 
sure  that  we  have  too  much  of  the  oligarchical  spirit  in  England,  both  in 
church  and  state  ;  and  I  think  that  those  one-eyed  men,  the  political  econ- 
omists, encourage  this  by  their  language  about  national  wealth,  &c.  Tou- 
tefois,  there  is  much  good  in  the  oligarchical  spirit  as  it  exists  in  Eng- 
land  


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  67 

XVI.    TO    REV.    J.    TUCKER. 

Laleham,  August  22, 1805. 

....  I  got  no  books  of  any  consequence,  nor  did  I  learn  any  thing 
except  that  general  notion  of  the  climate,  scenery,  and  manners  of  the  coun- 
try, which  can  only  be  gained  by  actual  observation.  We  crossed  the 
Tiber  a  little  beyond  Perugia,  where  it  was  a  most  miserable  ditch  with 
hardly  water  enough  to  turn  a  mill;  indeed  most  of  the  streams  which  flow 
from  the  Apennines  were  altogether  dried  up,  and  the  dry  and  thirsty  ap- 
pearance of  every  thing  was  truly  oriental.  The  flowers  were  a  great 
delight  to  me,  and  it  was  very  beautiful  to  see  the  hedges  full  of  the  pome- 
granate in  full  flower  ;  the  bright  scarlet  blossom  is  so  exceedingly  orna- 
mental, to  say  nothing  of  one's  associations  with  the  fruit.  What  we  call  the 
Spanish  broom  of  our  gardens  is  the  common  wild  broom  of  the  Apennines, 
but  I  do  not  think  it  so  beautiful  as  our  own. '  The  fig  trees  were  most  lux- 
uriant, but  not  more  so  than  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  I  got  tired  of  the  con- 
tinual occurrence  of  fruit  trees,  chiefly  olives,  instead  of  large  forest  trees. 
The  vale  of  Florence  looks  quite  poor  and  dull  in  comparison  of  our  rich 
valleys,  from  the  total  want  of  timber,  and  in  Florence  itself  there  is  not  a 
tree.  How  miserably  inferior  to  Oxford  is  Florence  altogether,  both  within 
and  as  seen  from  a  distance  ;  in  short,  I  never  was  so  disappointed  in  any  place 
in  my  life.  My  favourite  towns  were  Genoa,  Milan  and  Verona.  The  situation 
of  the  latter  just  at  the  foot  of  the  Alps,  and  almost  encircled,  like  Durham, 
by  a  full  and  rapid  river,  the  Adige,  was  very  delightful.  Tell  me  any  news 
you  can  think  of,  remembering  that  two  months  in  the  summer  are  a  gap 
in  my  knowledge,  as  I  never  saw  a  single  newspaper  during  my  absence. 
Specially  send  me'a  full  account  of  yourself  and  your  sisters,  and  the  Keblesif 
you  know  aught  of  them.  How  pure  and  beautiful  was  J.  Keble's  article  on 
Sacred  Poetry  in  the  Quarterly,  and  how  glad  am  I  that  he  was  prevailed 
on  to  write  it.  It  seemed  to  me  to  sanctify  in  a  manner  the  whole  Number. 
Mine  on  the  early  Roman  History  was  slightly  altered  by  Coleridge  here 
and  there,  so  that  I  am  not  quite  responsible  for  all  of  it. 


XVII.      T,0    THE    REV.    G.    CORNISH. 

Laleham,  October,  18,  1825. 

....  I  have  also  seen  some  sermons  preached  before  the  University  of 
Cambridge,  by  a  Mr.  Rose,  directed  against  the  German  Theologians,  in  the 
advertisement  to  which  he  attacks  my  article  in  the  Quarterly  with  great 
vehemence.  ....  He  is  apparently  a  good  man,  and  his  book  is  likely, 
I  think,  to  do  good ;  but  it  does  grieve  me  to  find  persons  of  his  stamp  quar- 
relling with  their  friends,  when  there  are  more  than  enough  of  enemies  in 
the  world  for  every  Christian  to  strive  against.  I  met  five  Englishmen  at 
the  public  table  at  our  inn  at  Milan,  who  gave  me  great  matter  for  cogita- 
tion. One  was  a  clergyman,  and  just  returned  from  Egypt ;  the  rest  were 
young  men,  i.  e.  between  twenty-five  and  thirty,  and  apparently  of  no  pro- 
fession. I  may  safely  say,  that  since  I  was  an  under-graduate,  I  never  heard 
any  conversation  so  profligate  as  that  which  they  all  indulged  in,  the  clergy- 
man particularly ;  indeed,  it  was  not  merely  gross,  but  avowed  principles  of 
wickedness,  such  as  I  do  not  remember  ever  to  have  heard  in  Oxford.  But 
what  struck  me  most  was,  that  with  this  sensuality  there  was  united  some 
intellectual  activity,  — they  were  not  ignorant,  but  seemed  bent  on  gaining 
a  great  variety  of  solid  information  from  their  travels.  Now  this  union  of 
vice  and  intellectual  power  and  knowledge  seems  to  me  rather  a  sign  of  the 
age,  and  if  it  goes  on,  it  threatens  to  produce  one  of  the  most  fearful  forms 
of  Antichrist  which  has  yet  appeared.     I  am  sure  that  the  great  prevalence 


gg  LIFE  OF   DR.   ARNOLD. 

of  travelling  fosters  this  spirit,  not  that  men  learn  mischief  from  the  French 
or  Italians,  but  because  they  are  removed  from  the  check  of  public  opinion, 
and  are,  in  fact,  self-constituted  outlaws,  neither  belonging  to  the  society 
which  they  have  left,  nor  taking  a  place  in  that  of  the  countries  where  they 
are  travelling.  What  I  saw  also  of  the  Pope's  religion  in  his  own  territories 
excited  my  attention  a  good  deal.  Monkery  seems  flourishing  there  in  great 
force,  and  the  abominations  of  their  systematic  falsehoods  seem  as  gross  as 
ever.  In  France,  on  the  contrary,  the  Catholics  seemed  to  me  to  be  Chris 
tians,  and  daily  becoming  more  and  more  so.  In  Italy  they  seem  to  me  to 
have  no  more  title  to  the  name  than  if  the  statues  of  Venus  and  Juno  occu- 
pied the  place  of  those  of  the  Virgin.  It  is  just  the  old  Heathenism,  and,  as 
I  should  think,  with  a  worse  system  of  deceit.  .... 


XVIII.      TO    REV.   J.    TUCKER. 

Laleham,  1  26. 


.     .     .     .     It  delighted  me  to  hear speak  decidedly  of  the  great 

need  of  reform  in  the  Church,  and  from  what  I  have  heard  in  other  quar- 
ters, I  am  in  hopes  that  these  sentiments  are  gaining  ground.  But  the  diffi- 
culty will  always  be  practically,  who  is  to  reform  it?  For  the  clergy  have  a 
horror  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  Parliament  and  the  country  will  never 
trust  the  matter  to  the  clergy.  If  we  had  our  General  Assembly,  there 
might  be  some  chance,  but  as  it  is,  I  know  no  more  hopeless  prospect,  and 
every  year  I  live,  this  is  to  me  more  painful.  If  half  the  energy  and  re- 
sources which  have  been  turned  to  Bible  societies  and  missions,  had  steadily 
been  applied  to  the  reform  of  our  own  institutions,  and  the  enforcing  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  Gospel  among  ourselves,  I  cannot  but  think  that  we  should  have 
been  fulfilling  a  higher  duty,  and  with  the  blessing  of  God  might  have  pro- 
duced more  satisfactory  fruit.  "  These  things  ought  ye  to  have  done,  and 
not  to  have  left  the  other  undone."1  Of  the  German  divines,  if  Mr.  Rose  is^ 
to  be  trusted,  there  can  be  but  one  opinion ;  they  exemplify  the  evils  of 
knowledge  without  a  Christian  watchfulness  over  the  heart  and  practice: 
but  I  greatly  fear  that  there  are  some  here  who  would  abuse  this  example 
to  the  discouragement  of  impartial  investigation  and  independent  thought ; 
as  If  ignorance  and  blind  following  the  opinions  of  others  were  the  habits 
that  best  become  Christians.  "  He  that  is  spiritual  judge th  all  things," — if 
cleared  from  fanaticism  and  presumption,  and  taken  in  connexion  with  "  But 
yet  I  show  unto  you  a  more  excellent  way," — is  at  once,  I  think,  our  privilege 
and  our  duty. 


XIX.      TO    REV.    E.    HAWKINS. 

Laleham,  October  22,  1826. 

You  know,  I  believe,  that  I  am  at  work  upon  Thucydides,  and  that  it 
ought  to  be  ready,  if  possible,  by  the  beginning  of  Lent  term.  I  wish  much 
to  get  the  judgments  of  several  men  of  different  qualifications  as  to  what  I 
have  already  completed.  I  should  like  to  have  the  opinion  of  a  professed 
scholar  as  to  the  critical  part;  of  a  man  deeply  versed  in  Greek  history  and 
law  as  to  the  historical  and  antiquarian  part,  and  particulary  to  tell  me 
whether  there  are  any  points  connected  with  Thucydides  which  require  a  par- 
ticular discussion,  and  which  I  may  have  omitted  in  pure  ignorance  ;  and 
thirdly,  I  want  the  judgment  of  a  man  of  plain  sense,  to  tell  me  what  he 
thinks  superfluous,  and  what  deficient,  in  the  notes  which  I  have  given.     Do 

The  words  of  the  English  version  are  here  substituted  for  the  quotations  from  the  Greek. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  69 

you  think  thai  you  could  do  any  thing  for  me  on  these  points,  if  I  were  to 
send  you  down  the  MS.  of  the  first  two  books;  and  remember  that  I  want 
to  have  full  and  free  censures,  reserving  to  myself,  of  course,  the  privilege  of 
following  them  or  not,  as  I  shall  see  cause,  but  promising  to  give  them  the 
fullest  attention.  I  think  I  might  rely  on  the  Provost's  being  kind  enough  to 
give  me  his  criticisms,  as  he  has  already  done  it  to  some  of  the  earlier  chap- 
ters, and  almost  all  his  suggestions  are  such  as  I  shall  thankfully  follow. 
I  am  a  little  anxious  that  our  Oxford  edition  of  Thucydides  should  be  as  good 
as  any  which  they  are  publishing  in  Germany. 


XX.   TO  REV.  JOHN  TUCKER. 

Laleham,  March  4,  1827. 

I  meant  to  have  written  almost  immediately  upon  my  return  home  from 
Kent ;  for  delightful  as  is  the  recollection  of  my  short  visit  to  you  on  every 
other  ground,  I  was,  and  have  been  ever  since,  a  good  deal  annoyed  by  some 
part  of  our  conversation,  i.  e.  by  observing  the  impression  produced  on  your 
mind  by  some  of  the  opinions  which  I  expressed.  It  is  to  me  personally  a 
very  great  pain  that  I  should  have  excited  feelings  of  disapprobation  in  the 
mind  of  a  man  whom  I  so  entirely  approve  and  love,  and  yet  that  I  cannot 
feel  the  disapprobation  to  be  deserved,  and  therefore  cannot  remove  the 
cause  of  it.  And  on  more  general  grounds  it  makes  me  fear,  that  those  en- 
gaged in  the  same  great  cause  will  never  heartily  sink  their  little  differences 
of  opinion,  when  I  find  that  you,  who  have  known  me  so  long,  cannot  hear 
them  without  thinking  them  not  merely  erroneous,  but  morally  wrong,  and 
6uch,  therefore,  as  give  you  pain  when  uttered.  I  am  not  in  the  least  going 
to  renew  the  argument ;  it  is  very  likely  that  I  was  wrong  in  it ;  and  I  am 
sure  it  would  not  annoy  me  that  you  should  think  me  so,  just  as  I  may  think 
you  wrong  in  any  point,  or  as  I  think  J.  Keble  wrong  in  half  a  hundred,  yet 
without  being  grieved  that  he  should  hold  them,  that  is,  grieved  as  at  a  fault. 
You  may  say  that  a  great  many  erroneous  opinions  imply  no  moral  fault  at 
all,  but  that  mine  did,  namely,  the  fault  of  an  unsubmissive  understanding. 
But  it  seems  to  me  that,  of  all  faults,  this  is  the  most  difficult  to  define  or  to 
discern:  for  who  shall  say  where  the  understanding  ought  to  submit  itself, 
unless  where  it  is  inclined  to  advocate  any  thing  immoral  ?  We  know  that 
what  in  one  age  has  been  called  the  spirit  of  rebellious  reason,  has  in  another 
been  allowed  by  all  good  men  to  have  been  nothing  but  a  sound  judgment 
exempt  from  superstition.  We  know  that  the  Catholics  look  with  as  great 
horror  on  the  consequences  of  denying  the  infallibility  of  the  Church  as  you 
can  do  on  those  of  denying  the  entire  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures;  and 
that,  to  come  nearer  to  the  point,  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures  in  points 
of  physical  science  was  once  insisted  on  as  stoutly  as  it  is  now  maintained 
with  regard  to  matter  oi*  history.  Now  it  may  be  correct  to  deny  their 
inspiration  in  one  and  not  in  the  other  ;  but  I  think  it  is  hard  to  ascribe  the  one 
opinion  to  any  thing  morally  faulty  more  than  the  other.  I  am  far  from 
thinking  myself  so  good  a  man  by  many  degrees  as  you  are.  I  am  not  so 
advanced  a  Christian.  But  I  am  sure  that  my  love  for  the  Gospel  is  as  sincere, 
and  my  desire  to  bring  every  thought  into  the  obedience  of  Christ  is  one 
which  1  think  I  do  not  deceive  myself  in  believing  that  I  honestly  feel.  It 
is  very  painful,  therefore,  to  be  suspected  of  paying  them  only  a  divided 
homage,  or  to  be  deficient  in  reverence  to  Him  whom  every  year  that  I  live 
my  whole  soul  and  spirit  own  with  a  more  entire  certainty  and  love.  Let 
me  again  say,  that  I  am  neither  defending  the  truth  of  the  particular  opin- 
ions which  I  expressed  to  you,  nor  yet  disavowing  them.  I  only  think  that 
it  is  a  pity  that  they  should  shock  you  ;  as  I  think  we  ought  to  know  one 
another's  principles  well  enough  by  this  time,  not  certainly  to  make  us 
acquiesce  in  all  each  other's  opinions,  but  to  be  satisfied  that  they  may  be 


70  LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

entertained  innocently,  and  that  therefore  we  may  differ  from  each  other 
without  pain.  But  enough  of  this  ;  only  it  has  annoyed  me  a  great  deal, 
and  has  made  me  doubt  where  I  can  find  a  person  to  whom  I  may  speak 
freely  if  I  cannot  do  so  even  to  you. 


LETTERS  RELATING  TO  THE  ELECTION  AT  RUGBY. 

XXI.      TO    REV.  E.    HAWKINS. 

Laleliam,  October  21,  1827. 

I  feel  most  sincerely  obliged  to  you  and  my  other  friends  in  Oxford  for 
the  kind  interest  which  you  show  in  my  behalf,  in  wishing  to  procure  for  me 
the  head-mastership  at  Rugby.  Of  its  being  a  great  deal  more  lucrative 
than  my  present  employment  I  have  no  doubt ;  nor  of  its  being  in  itself  a 
situation  of  more  extensive  usefulness ;  but  I  do  doubt  whether  it  would  be 
so  in  my  hands,  and  how  far  I  am  fitted  for  the  place  of  head-master  of  a 

large  school I  confess  that  I  should  very  much  object  to 

undertake  a  charge  in  which  I  was  not  invested  with  pretty  full  discretion. 
According  to  my  notions  of  what  large  schools  are,  founded  on  all  I  know 
and  all  I  have  ever  heard  of  them,  expulsion  should  be  practised  much 
oftener  than  it  is.  Now,  I  know  that  trustees,  in  general,  are  averse  to  this 
plan,  because  it  has  a  tendency  to  lessen^  the  numbers  of  the  school,  and  they 
regard  quantity  more  than  quality.  In  fact,  my  opinions  on  this  point  might, 
perhaps,  generally  be  considered  as  disqualifying  me  for  the  situation  of 
master  of  a  great  school ;  yet  I  could  not  consent  to  tolerate  much  that  I 
know  is  tolerated  generally,  and,  therefore,  I  should  not  like  to  enter  on  an 
office  which  I  could  not  discharge  according  to  my  own  views  of  what  is 
right.  I  do  not  believe  myself,  that  my  system  would  be.  in  fact,  a  cruel  or 
a  harsh  one,  and  I  believe  that  with  much  care  on  the  part  of  the  masters,  it 
would  be  seldom  necessary  to  proceed  to  the  ratio  ultima ;  only  I  would  have 
it  clearly  understood,  that  I  would  most  unscrupulously  resort  to  it,  at  what- 
ever inconvenience,  where  there  was  a  perseverance  in  any  habit  inconsistent 
with  a  boy's  duties. 


XXII.      TO    REV.    GEORGE    CORNISH. 

Laleliam,  November  30,  1827. 

You  have  often  wanted  me  to  be  master  at  Winchester,  so  I  think  you 
will  be  glad  to  hear  that  I  am  actually  a  candidate  for  Rugby.  I  was 
strongly  urged  to  stand,  and  money  tempted  me,  but  I  cannot  in  my  heart 
be  sorry  to  stay  where  both  Mary  and  myself  are  so  entirely  happy.  If  I  do 
get  it,  I  feel  as  if  I  could  set  to  work  very  heartily,  and,  with  God's  blessing, 
I  should  like  to  try  whether  my  notions  of  Christian  education  are  really 
impracticable,  whether  our  system  of  public  schools  has  not  in  it  some  noble 
elements  which,  under  the  blessing  of  the  Spirit  of  all  holiness  and  wisdom, 
might  produce  fruit  even  to  life  eternal.  When  I  think  about  it  thus,  I  really 
long  to  take  rod  in  hand ;  but  when  I  think  of  the  tt^o?  to  t*'Ao?,  the  perfect 
vileness  which  I  must  daily  contemplate,  the  certainty  that  this  can  at  best 
be  only  partially  remedied,  the  irksomeness  of  "  fortemque  Gyan  fortemque 
Cloanthum,"  and  the  greater  form  and  publicity  of  the  life  which  we  should 
there  lead,  when  I  could  no  more  bathe  daily  in  the  clear  Thames,  nor 
wear  old  coats  and  Russia  duck  trousers,  nor  hang  on  a  gallows,'  nor  climb 
a  pole,  I  grieve  to  think  of  the  possibility  of  a  change  ;  but  as  there  are 
about  thirty  candidates,  [and  I  only  applied  very  late,  I  think  I  need  not 
disquiet  myself.     I  send  you  this  brief  notice,  because  you  ought  to  hear 

1  His  gymnastic  exercises. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD 


71 


of  my  plans  from  myself  rather  than  from  others  ;  but  I  have  no  time  to  write 
more.     Thucydides  prospers. 


XXIII.      TO    REV.    J.  TUCKER. 

December  28,  1827. 

Our  united  warmest  thanks  to  you  and  to  your  sisters  for  the  joy  you 
have  felt  about  Rugby.  For  the  labour  I  care  nothing,  if  God  gives  me 
health  and  strength  as  he  has  for  the  last  eight  years.  But  whether  I  shall 
be  able  to  make  the  school  what  I  wish  to  make  it. — I  do  not  mean  wholly 
or  perfectly,  but  in  some  degree, — that  is,  an  instrument  of  God's  glory, 
and  of  the  everlasting  good  of  those  who  come  to  it, — that  indeed  is  an 
awful  anxiety. 


XXIV.      TO    REV.    E.    HAWKINS. 

Laleham,  December  28,  J827. 

Your  kind  little  note  ought  not  to  have  remained  thus  long  unanswered, 
especially  as  you  have  a  most  particular  claim  on  my  thanks  for  your  active 
kindness  in  the  whole  business,  and  for  your  character  of  me  to  Sir  H.  Hal- 
ford,  that  I  was  likely  to  improve  generally  the  system  of  public  education, 
a  statement  which  Sir  H.  Halford  told  me  had  weighed  most  strongly  in 
my  favour.  You  would  not,  I  am  sure,  have  recommended  me,  if  you  had 
supposed  that  I  should  alter  things  violently  or  for  the  pleasure  of  altering ; 
but.  as  I  have  at  different  times  expressed  in  conversation  my  disapprobation 
of  much  of  the  existing  system,  I  find  that  some  people  expect  that  I  am 
going  to  sweep  away  root  and  branch,  quod  absit !  I  need  not  tell  you  how 
wholly  unexpected  this  result  has  been  to  us,  and  I  hope  I  need  not  say  also 
what  a  solemn  and  almost  overwhelming  responsibility  I  feel  is  imposed 
on  me.  I  would  hope  to  have  the  prayers  of  my  friends,  together  with  my 
own,  for  a  supply  of  that  true  wisdom  which  is  required  for  such  a  business. 
To  be  sure,  how  small  in  comparison  is  the  importance  of  my  teaching  the 
boys  to  read  Greek,  and  how  light  would  be  a  schoolmaster's  duty  if  that 
were  all  of  it.  Yet,  if  my  health  and  strength  continue  as  they  have  been 
for  the  last  eight  years,  I  do  not  fear  the  labour,  and  really  enjoy  the  prospect 
of  it.     I  am  so  glad  that  we  are  likely  to  meet  soon  in  Oxford. 


XXV.   TO  REV.  JOHN  TUCKER. 

Laleham,  March  2. 

With  regard  to  reforms  at  Rugby,  give  me  credit,  I  must  beg  of  you,  for 
a  most  sincere  desire  to  make  it  a  place  of  Christian  education.  At  the 
same  time,  my  object  will  be,  if  possible,  to  form  Christian  men,  for  Christian 
boys  I  can  scarcely  hope  to  make ;  I  mean  that,  from  the  natural  imperfect 
state  of  boyhood,  they  are  not  susceptible  of  Christian  principles  in  their 
full  development  upon  their  practice,  and  I  suspect  that  a  low  standard  of 
morals  in  many  respects  must  be  tolerated  amongst  them,  as  it  was  on  a 
larger  scale  in  what  I  consider  the  boyhood  of  the  human  race.  But  I  be- 
lieve that  a  great  deal  may  be  done,  and  I  should  be  most  unwilling  to 
undertake  the  business,  if  I  did  not  trust  that  much  might  be  done.  Our 
impressions  of  the  exterior  of  every  thing  that  we  saw  during  our  visit  to 
Dr.  Wooll  in  January,  were  very  favourable ;  at  the  same  time  that  I  antici- 
pate a  great  many  difficulties  in  the  management  of  affairs,  before  they  can 


/ 


72 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


be  brought  into  good  train.  But  both  Mary  and  myself,  I  think,  are  well 
inclined=to  commence  our  work,  and  if  my  health  and  strength  be  spared 
me,  I  certainly  feel  that  in  no  situation  could  I  have  the  prospect  of  employ- 
ment so  congenial  to  my  taste  and  qualifications ;  that  is,  supposing  always 
that  I  find  that  1  can  manage  the  change  from  older  pupils  to  a  school.  Your 
account  of  yourself  was  most  delightful :  my  life  for  some  years  has  been  one 
of  great  happiness,  but  I  fear  not  of  happiness  so  safe  and  permitted.  I  am 
hurried  on  too  fast  in  the  round  of  duties  and  of  domestic  enjoyments,  and  I 
greatly  feel  the  need,  and  shall  do  so  even  more  at  Rugby,  unless  I  take 
heed  in  time,  of  stopping  to  consider  my  ways,  and  to  recognize  my  own  infi- 
nite weakness  and  unworthiness.  I  have  read  the  "  Letters  on  the  Church," 
and  reviewed  them  in  the  Edinburgh  Review  for  September.  1826,  if  you 
care  to  know  what  I  think  of  them.  I  think  that  any  discussion  on  church 
matters  must  do  good,  if  it  is  likely  to  lead  to  any  reform  ;  for  any  change, 
such  as  is  within  any  human  calculation,  would  be  an  improvement.    What 

might  not do,  if  he  would  set  himself  to  work  in  the  House  of  Lords, 

not  to  patch  up  this  hole  or  that,  but  to  recast  the  whole  corrupt  system, 
which  in  many  points  stands  just  as  it  did  in  the  worst  times  of  popery,  only 
reading  "  King"  or  "  Aristocracy,"  in  the  place  of  "  Pope." 


XXVI.      TO    REV.    F.    C.    BLACKSTONE. 

Laleham,  March  14,  1828. 

We  are  resigning  private  pupils,  I  imagine,  with  very  different 

feelings ;  you  looking  forward  to  a  life  of  less  distraction,  and  I  to  one  of  far 
greater,  insomuch  that  all  here  seems  quietness  itself  in  comparison  with 
what  I  shall  meet  with  at  Rugby.  There  will  be  a  great  deal  to  do,  I  sus- 
pect, in  every  way,  when  I  first  enter  on  my  situation  ;  but  still,  if  my  health 
continues,  I  do  not  at  all  dread  it,  but  on  the  contrary  look  forward  to  it  with 
much  pleasure.  I  have  long  since  looked  upon  education  as  my  business  in 
life  ;  and  just  before  I  stood  for  Rugby,  I  had  offered  myself  as  a  candidate 
for  the  historical  professorship  at  the  London  University ;  and  had  indulged 
in  various  dreams  of  attaching  myself  to  that  institution,  and  trying  as  far 
as  possible  to  influence  it.  In  Rugby  there  is  a  fairer  field,"  because  I  start 
with  greater  advantages.  You  know  that  I  never  ran  down  public  schools 
in  the  lump,  but  grieved  that  their  exceeding  capabilities  were  not  turned 
to  better  account;  and  if  I  find  myself  unable  in  time  to  mend  what  I  con- 
eider  faulty  in  them,  it  will  at  any  rate  be  a  practical  lesson  to  teach  me  to 
judge  charitably  of  others,  who  do  not  reform  public  institutions  as  much  as  is 
desirable.  I  suppose  that  you  have  not  regarded  all  the  public  events  of  the 
last  few  months  without  some  interest.  My  views  of  things  certainly  become 
daily  more  reforming  ;  and  what  I  above  all  other  things  wish  to  see  is,  a 
close  union  between  Christian  reformers  and  those  who  are  often,  as  I 
think,  falsely  charged  with  being  enemies  of-Christianity.  It  is  apart  of  the 
perfection  of  the  Gospel  that  it  is  attractive  to  all  those  who  love  truth  and 
goodness,  as  soon  as  it  is  known  in  its  true  nature,  whilst  it  tends  to  clear 
away  those  erroneous  views  and  evil  passions  with  which  philanthropy  and 
philosophy,  so  long  as  they  stand  aloof  from  it,  are  ever  in  some  degree  cor- 
rupted. My  feeling  towards  men  whom  I  believe  to  be  sincere  lovers  of 
truth  and  the  happiness  of  their  fellow  creatures,  while  they  seek  these  ends 
otherwise  than  through  the  medium  of  the  Gospel,  is  rather  that  they  are 
not  1'ar  from  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  might  be  brought  into  it  altogether, 
than  that  they  are  enemies  whose  views  are  directly  opposed  to  our  own. 
That  they  are  not  brought  into  it  is,  I  think  to  a  considerable  degree, 
chargeable  upon  the  professors  of  Christianity ;  the  high  Church  party 
seeming  to  think  that  the  establishment  in  Church  and  State  is  all  in  all,  and 
that  the  Gospel  principles  must  be  accommodated  to  our  existing  institu- 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


73 


tions,  instead  of  offering  a  pattern  by  which,  those  institutions  should  be  pu- 
rified ;  and  the  Evangelicals,  by  their  ignorance  and  narrow-mindedness, 
and  their  seeming  wish  to  keep  the  world  and  the  Church  ever  distinct, 
instead  of  labouring  to  destroy  the  one  by  increasing  the  influence  of  the 
other,  and  making  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  indeed  the  kingdoms  of 
Christ. 


XXVII.      TO    AUGUSTUS    HARE,  ESQ. 

Laleham,  March  7,  1828. 

I  trust  that  you  have  recovered  your  accident  at  Perugia,  and 

that  you  are  enabled  to  enjoy  your  stay  at  that  glorious  Rome.  I  think 
that  I  have  never  written  to  you  since  my  return  from  it  last  spring,  when 
I  was  so  completely  overpowered  with  admiration  and  delight  at  the  match- 
less beauty  and  solemnity  of  Rome  and  its  neighbourhood.  But  I  think 
my  greatest  delight  after  all  was  in  the  society  of  Bunsen,  the  Prussian  min- 
ister at  Rome.  .  .  .  He  reminded  me  continually  of  you  more  than  of  any 
other  man  whom  I  know,  and  chiefly  by  his  entire  and  enthusiastic  admira- 
tion of  every  thing  great  and  excellent  and  beautiful,  not  stopping  to  see  or 
care  for  minute  faults  ;  and  though  I  cannot  rid  myself  of  that  critical  pro- 
pensity, yet  I  can  heartily  admire  and  almost  envy  those  who  are  without 

it I  have  derived  great  benefit  from  sources  of  information  that 

your  brother  has  at  different  times  recommended  to  me,  and  the  perusal  of 
some  of  his  articles  in  the  "  Guesses  at  Truth"  has  made  me  exceedingly 
desirous  of  becoming  better  acquainted  with  him,  as  I  am  sure  that  hia 
conversation  would  be  really  profitable  to  me,  in  the  highest  sense  of  the 
word,  as  well  as  delightful.  And  I  have  a  double  pleasure  in  saying  this, 
because  I  did  not  do  him  justice  formerly  in  my  estimate  of  him,  and  am 
anxious  to  do  myself  justice  now  by  saying  that  I  have  learnt  to  judge  more 
truly.  You  will  have  heard  of  my  changed  prospects  in  consequence  of  my 
election  at  Rugby.  It  will  be  a  severe  pang  to  me  to  leave  Laleham  ;  but 
otherwise  I  rejoice  in  my  appointment,  and  hope  to  be  useful,  if  life  and 

health  are  spared  me I  think  of  going  to   Leipsic,  Dresden,   and 

Prague,  to  worship  the  Elbe  and  the  country  of  John  Huss  and  Ziska. 
All  here  unite  in  kindest  remembrances  to  you,  and  I  wish  you  could  con- 
vey to  the  very  stones  and  air  of  Rome  the  expression  of  my  fond  recollec- 
tion for  them. 


XXVIII.     TO    REV.    JOHN    TUCKER. 

Laleham,  May  25, 1823 
(After  speaking  of  Mr.  Tucker's  proposed  intention  of  going  as  a  mis- 
sionary to  India.)  If  you  should  go  to  India  before  we  have  an  opportunity  of 
meeting  again,  I  would  earnestly  beg  of  you  not  to  go  away  with  the  notion, 
which  I  sometimes  fear  that  my  oldest  friends  are  getting  of  me,  that  I  am 
become  a  hard  man,  given  up  to  literary  and  scholastic  pursuits,  and  full 
of  worldly  and  political  views  of  things.  It  has  given  me  very  great  pain 
to  think  that  some  of  those  whom  I  most  love,  and  with  whom  I  would  most 
fain  be  one  in  spirit,  regard  my  views  of  things  as  jarring  with  their  own,  and 
are  losing  towards  me  that  feeling  of  Christian  brotherhood  which  I  think 
they  once  entertained.  I  am  not  in  the  slightest  degree  speaking  of  any 
offence  given  or  received,  or  any  personal  decay  of  regard,  but  I  fancy  they 
look  upon  me  as  not  quite  one  with  themselves,  and  as  having  my  affections 
fixed  upon  lower  objects.  Assuredly  I  have  no  right  to  regret  that  I  should 
be  thought  deficient  in  points  in  which  I  know  I  am  deficient ;  but  I  would 
most  earnestly  protest  against  being  thought  wilfully  and  contentedly  defi- 
cient in  them,  and  not  caring  to  be  otherwise.     And  I  cannot  help  fearing 

6 


74  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

that  my  conversation  with  you  last  winter  twelvemonth  led  you  to  some- 
thing, at  least,  of  a  similar  impression. 


XXIX.      TO    J.    T.    COLERIDGE,    ESQ. 

Laleham,  April  24,  1S28. 

It  seems  an  age  since  I  have  seen  you  or  written  to  you ;  and  I  hear 
that  you  are  now  again  returned  to  London,  and  that  your  eldest  boy,  I  am 
grieved  to  find,  is  not  so  well  and  strong  as  you  could  wish.  I  could  really 
be  half  romantic,  yet  I  do  not  know  that  I  ought  to  use  any  such  equivocal 
epithet.  When  I  think  how  little  intercourse  I  hold  with  my  most  valued 
friends,  it  is  almost  awful  to  feel  the  tendencies  of  life  to  pare  down  one's 
affections  and  feelings  to  the  minimum  compatible  with  any  thing  like  hu- 
manity. There  is  one's  trade  and  one's  family,  and  beyond  it  seems  as  if 
the  great  demon  of  worldly-mindedness  would  hardly  allow  one  to  be- 
stow a  thought  or  care. 

But,  if  it  please  God,  I  will  not  sink  into  this  state  without  some  struggles, 
at  least,  against  it.  I  saw  Dyson  the  other  day  in  Oxford,  where  I  went  to 
take  my  degree  of  B.D.,  and  he  and  his  wife  were  enough  to  freshen  one's 
spirit  for  some  time  to  come.  I  wish  that  you  and  I  could  meet  oftener,  and, 
instead  of  that,  I  fear  that  when  I  am  at  Rugby  we  shall  meet  even  sel- 
domer  ;  but  I  trust  that  we  shall  meet  sometimes  still.  You  know,  perhaps, 
and  yet  how  should  you  ?  that  my  sixth  child,  and  fourth  son,  was  born  on 
the  7th  of  April,  and  that  his  dear  mother  has  been  again  preserved  to  me. 
All  the  rest  of  my  children  are  quite  well,  and  they  are  also  tolerably  well 
at  the  other  houses,  though  the  coming  parting  is  a  sad  cloud  both  to  them 
and  to  us.  Still,  without  any  affectation,  I  believe  that  John  Keble  is  right 
and  that  it  is  good  for  us  to  leave  Laleham,  because  I  feel  that  we  are  daily 
getting  to  regard  it  as  too  much  of  a  home.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  we  both 
love  it,  and  its  perfect  peace  seems  at  times  an  appalling  contrast  to  the 
publicity  of  Rugby.  I  am  sure  that  nothing  could  stifle  this  regret,  were  it 
not  for  my  full  consciousness  that  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  rest  here,  but 
with  labour ;  and  then  I  can  and  do  look  forward  to  the  labour  with  nothing 
but  satisfaction,  if  my  health  and  faculties  be  still  spared  to  me. 

I  went  down  to  Rugby,  a  fortnight  since,  to  meet  the  trustees.  The  terms 
of  the  school,  which  were  far  too  low,  have  been  raised  on  my  representa- 
tion ;  and  there  is  some  possibility  of  my  being  put  into  the  situation  of  the 
head  masters  of  Eton  and  Westminster,  that  is,  to  have  nothing  to  do  with 
any  boarders I  have  got  six  maps  for  Thucydides,  all  entire- 
ly original,  and  I  have  nearly  finished  half  of  the  last  book  j  so  that  I  hope 
I  may  almost  say  "  Italiam  !  Italiam  !" 


XXX.       TO    THE    REV.  P.  C.  BLACKSTONE. 

Laleham,  July  11,  1828, 

....  It  would  be  foolish  to  talk  of  the  deep  love  that  I  bear  to  Laleham, 
and  the  wrench  which  it  will  be  to  part  from  it ;  but  this  is  quite  consistent 
with  a  lively  interest  in  Rugby ;  and  when  I  strolled  with in  the  mea- 
dows there,  during  our  visit  of  last  week,  I  thought  that  I  already  began  to 
feel  it  as  my  home.  .  .  .  There  will  be  enough  to  do,  I  imagine,  without 
any  addition ;  though  I  really  feel  very  sanguine  as  to  my  own  relish  for 
the  work,  and  think  that  it  will  come  more  naturally  to  me  than  I  at  first 
imagined.  May  God  grant  that  I  may  labour  with  an  entire  confidence  in 
Him,  and  with  none  in  myself  without  Him. 


LIFE  OP   DR.  ARNOLD. 


75 


XXXI.      TO    W.  W.  HULL,  ESQ. 

Laleham,  July  29,  1828. 

I  never  would  publish1  without  a  considerable  revision  of 

them.  I  well  know  their  incompleteness,  and  suspect  much  worse  faults  in 
them.  Do  not  imagine  that  I  neglect  your  remarks;  far  from  it:  I  would 
attend  to  them  earnestly,  and  would  soften  gladly  any  thing  that  .was  too 
harsh,  or  that  might  give  offence,  and  would  alter  the  mere  inadvertencies 
of  my  hasty  writing  in  point  of  style.  But  certainly  the  character  of  the 
style  I  could  not  alter,  because  no  other  would  be  natural  to  me  ;  and  though 
I  am  far  from  wishing  other  people  to  write  as  I  do,  yet  for  myself  I  hold  it 
best  to  follow  my  own  fashion 

1  owe  it  to  Rugby  not  to  excite  needless  scandal  by  an  isolated  and  un- 
called-for publication.  I  shall  never  be  Mr.  Dean,  nor  do  I  wish  it ;  but  having 
undertaken  the  office  of  Dr.  Wooll,  with  double  I  or  single  /,  as  best  suits 
your  fancy,  I  do  wish  to  do  my  utmost  in  it,  and  not  to  throw  difficulties  in 
my  own  way  by  any  imprudence.  This,  of  course,  would  apply  either  to 
minor  points,  or  to  those  on  which  I  distrusted  my  own  competent  know- 
ledge. Where  I  am  fully  decided,  on  a  matter  of  consequence,  I  would  speak 
out  as  plainly  and  boldly  as  your  heart  could  wish. 

We  are  all  in  the  midst  of  confusion  ;  the  books  all  packed,  and  half  the 
furniture ;  and  on  Tuesday,  if  God  will,  we  shall  leave  this  dear  place,  this 
nine  years'  home  of  such  exceeding  happiness.  But  it  boots  not  to  look 
backwards.  Forwards,  forwards,  forwards, — should  be  one's  motto.  I  trust 
you  will  see  us  in  our  new  dwelling  ere  long ;  I  shall  want  to  see  my  old 
friends  there,  to  wear  off  the  gloss  of  its  newness. 


XXXII.      TO    THE    REV.  JOHN    TUCKER. 

Laleham,  August,  1828. 

I  am  inclined  to  write  to  you  once  again  before  we  leave  Laleham,  as  a 
sort  of  farewell  from  this  dear  place  ;  and  you  shall  answer  it  with  a  welcome 
to  Rugby.  You  fancy  us  already  at  Rugby,  and  so  does  J.  Keble,  from 
whom  I  received  a  very  kind  letter  some  time  since,  directed  to  me  there. 
But  we  do  not  move  till  Tuesday,  when  we  go,  fourteen  souls,  to  Oxford, 
having  taken  the  whole  coach ;  and  on  Wednesday  we  hope  to  reach  Rugby, 
having,  in  like  manner,  secured  the  whole  Leicester  coach  from  Oxford  to 
Rugby.  Our  goods  and  chattels,  under  convoy  of  our  gardener,  are  at  this 
time  somewhere  on  the  Grand  Junction  Canal,  and  will  reach  Rugby  I  hope 
this  evening.  The  poor-house  here  is  sadly  desolate  ;  all  the  carpets  up,  half 
the  furniture  gone,  and  signs  of  removal  every  where  visible.  And  so  ends 
the  first  act  of  my  life  since  I  arrived  at  manhood.  For  the  last  eight  years 
it  has  been  a  period  of  as  unruffled  happiness  as  I  should  think  could  ever 
be  experienced  by  man.  Mary's  illness,  in  1821,  is  almost  its  only  dark 
spot ; — and  how  was  that  softened  and  comforted  !  It  is  almost  a  fearful 
consideration ;  and  yet  there  is  a  superstitious  notion,  and  an  unbelieving 
one,  too,  which  cannot  receive  God's  mercies  as  his  free  gift,  but  will  always 
be  looking  out  for  something  wherewith  to  purchase  them.  An  humbling 
consideration  much  rather  it  is  and  ought  to  be ;  yet  all  life  is  humbling,  if 
we  think  upon  it,  and  our  greatest  mercies,  which  we  sometimes  least  think 
of,  are  the  most  humbling  of  all.  .  .  .  The  Rugby  prospect  I  contem- 
plate with  a  very  strong  interest ;  the  work  I  am  not  afraid  of,  if  I  can  get 
my  proper  exercise ;  but  I  want  absolute  play,  like  a  boy,  and  neither  riding 

1  In  allusion  to  the  first  volume  of  his  Sermons,  which  was  now  in  the  process  of 
publication. 


76  LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

nor  walking  will  make  up  for  my  leaping-pole  and  gallows,  and  bathing, 
when  the  youths  used  to  go  with  me,  and  I  felt  completely  for  the  time  a  boy, 
a8  they  were.  It  is  this  entire  relaxation,  I  think,  at  intervals,  such  again 
as  my  foreign  tours  have  afforded,  that  gives  me  so  keen  an  appetite  for  my 
work  at  other  times,  and  has  enabled  me  to  go  through  it  not  only  with  no 
fatigue,  but  with  a  sense  of  absolute  pleasure.  I  believe  that  I  am  going 
to  publish  a  volume  of  Sermons.  You  will  think  me  crazed  perhaps  ;  but  I 
have  two  reasons  for  it :  chiefly,  the  repeated  exhortations  of  several  indi- 
viduals for  the  last  three  or  four  years ;  but  these  would  not  alone  have  urged 
me  to  it,  did  I  not  wish  to  state,  for  my  own  sake,  what  my  opinions  really 
are,  on  points  where  I  know  they  have  been  grievously  misrepresented. 
Whilst  I  lived  here  in  Laleham,  my  opinions  mattered  to  nobody ;  but  I 
know  that  while  I  was  a  candidate  for  Rugby,  it  was  said  in  Oxford  that  I 
did  not  preach  the  Gospel,  nor  even  touch  upon  the  great  doctrines  of  Chris- 
tianity in  my  sermons  ;  and  if  this  same  impression  be  prevalent  now,  it  will 
be  mischievous  to  the  school  in  a  high  degree.  Now,  if  what  I  really  do 
preach  be  to  any  man's  notions  not  the  Gospel,  I  cannot  help  it,  and  must  be 
content  to  abide  by  the  consequences  of  his  opinion ;  but  I  do  not  want  to 
be  misunderstood,  and  accused  of  omitting  things  which  I  do  not  omit. 


XXXIII.      TO    THE    REV.  GEORGE    CORNISH. 

Rugby,  August  J6,  1828. 

.  .  .  If  I  can  do  my  work  as  I  ought  to  do  it,  we  shall  have  every 
reason  to  be  thankful  for  the  change.  I  must  not,  it  is  true,  think  of  dear  old 
Laleham,  and  all  that  we  have  left  there,  or  the  perfect  peace  of  our  eight 
years  of  wedded  life  passed  there  together.  It  is  odd  that  both  you  and  I 
should  now  for  the  first  time  in  our  lives  be  moving  from  our  parents'  neigh- 
bourhood ;  but  in  this  respect  our  happiness  was  very  uncommon,  and  to  me 
altogether  Laleham  was  so  like  a  place  of  premature  rest,  that  I  believe  I 
ought  to  be  sincerely  thankful  that  I  am  called  to  a  scene  of  harder  and 

more  anxious  labour The  boys  comeback  next  Saturday  week. 

So  here  begins  the  second  act  of  our  lives.    May  God  bless  it  to  us,  and 
make  it  help  forward  the  great  end  of  all. 


CHAPTER  III. 


SCHOOL  LIFE  AT  RUGBY* 

It  would  be  useless  to  give  any  chronological  details  of  a  life  so 
necessarily  monotonous  as  that  of  the  Head-master  of  a  public 
school ;  and  it  is  accordingly  only  intended  to  describe  the  general 
system  which  Dr.  Arnold  pursued  during  the  fourteen  years  he  was 
at  Rugby.  Yet  some  apology  may  seem  to  be  due  for  the  length 
of  a  chapter,  which  to  the  general  reader  must  be  comparatively 
deficient  in  interest.  Something  must,  indeed,  be  forgiven  to  the 
natural  inclination  to  dwell  on  those  recollections  of  his  life,  which 
to  his  pupils  are  the  most  lively  and  the  most  recent — something 
to  the  almost  unconscious  tendency  to  magnify  those  scenes  which 
are  most  nearly  connected  with  what  is  most  endeared  to  one's  self. 
But  independently  of  any  local  or  personal  considerations,  it  has 
been  felt  that  if  any  part  of  Dr.  Arnold's  work  deserved  special 
mention,  it  was  his  work  at  Rugby ;  and  that  if  it  was  to  be  of  any 
use  to  those  of  his  own  profession  who  would  take  any  interest  in 
it,  it  could  only  be  made  so  by  a  full  and  minute  account. 

Those  who  look  back  upon  the  state  of  English  education  in 
the  year  1827,  must  remember  how  the  feeling  of  dissatisfaction 
with  existing  institutions  which  had  begun  in  many  quarters  to 
display  itself  had  already  directed  considerable  attention  to  the 
condition  of  public  schools.  The  range  of  classical  reading,  in  itself 
confined,  and  with  no  admixture  of  other  information,  had  been 
subject  to  vehement  attacks  from  the  liberal  party  generally,  on  the 
ground  of  its  alleged  narrowness  and  inutility.  And  the  more  un- 
doubted evil  of  the  absence  of  systematic  attempts  to  give  a  more 
directly  Christian  character  to  what  constituted  the  education  of  the 
whole  English  gentry,  was  becoming  more  and  more  a  scandal  in 
the  eyes  of  religious  men,  who  at  the  close  of  the  last  century  and 
the  beginning  of  this — -Wilberforce  for  example,  and  Bowdler — had 
lifted  up  their  voices  against  it.  A  complete  reformation,  or  a  com- 
plete destruction  of  the  whole  system,  seemed,  to  many  persons, 
sooner  or  later  to  be  inevitable.  The  difficulty,  however,  of  making 
the  first  step,  where  the  alleged  objection  to  alteration  was  its  im- 


78  LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

practicability,  was  not  to  be  easily  surmounted.  The  mere  resist- 
ance to  change  which  clings  to  old  institutions,  was  in  itself  a 
considerable  obstacle,  and  in  the  case  of  some  of  the  public  schools, 
from  the  nature  of  their  constitution,  in  the  first  instance  almost  in- 
superable ;  and  whether  amongst  those  who  were  engaged  in  the 
existing  system,  or  those  who  were  most  vehemently  opposed  to  it, 
for  opposite,  but  obvious  reasons,  it  must  have  been  extremely 
difficult  to  find  a  man  who  would  attempt,  or  if  he  attempted,  carry 
through,  any  extensive  improvement. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  Dr.  Arnold  was  elected  head -master 
of  a  school  which,  whilst  it  presented  a  fair  average  specimen  of 
the  public  schools  at  that  time,  yet  by  its  constitution  imposed  fewer 
shackles  on  its  head,  and  offered  a  more  open  field  for  alteration 
than  was  the  case  at  least  with  Eton  or  Winchester.  The  post 
itself,  in  spite  of  the  publicity,  and  to  a  certain  degree  formality, 
which  it  entailed  upon  him,  was  in  many  respects  remarkably  suited 
to  his  natural  tastes  ; — to  his  love  of  tuition,  which  had  now  grown 
so  strongly  upon  him,  that  he  declared  sometimes,  that  he  could 
hardly  live  without  such  employment ;  to  the  vigour  and  spirits 
which  fitted  him  rather  to  deal  with  the  young  than  the  old  ;  to  the 
desire  of  carrying  out  his  favourite  ideas  of  uniting  things  secular 
with  things  spiritual,  and  of  introducing  the  highest  principles  of 
action  into  regions  comparatively  uncongenial  to  their  reception. 

Even  his  general  interest  in  public  matters  was  not  without  its 
use  in  his  new  station.  Many,  indeed,  both  of  his  admirers  and  of 
his  opponents,  used  to  lament  that  a  man  with  such  views  and 
pursuits  should  be  placed  in  such  a  situation.  "  What  a  pity,"  it 
was  said  on  the  one  hand,  "  that  a  man  fit  to  be  a  statesman  should 
be  employed  in  teaching  school-boys."  "  What  a  shame,"  it  was 
said  on  the  other  hand,  "  that  the  head-master  of  Rugby  should  be 
employed  in  writing  essays  and  pamphlets."  But,  even  had  there 
been  no  connexion  between  the  two  spheres  of  his  interest,  and  had 
the  inconvenience  resulting  from  his  public  prominence  been  far 
greater  than  it  was,  it  would  have  been  the  necessary  price  of  hav- 
ing him  at  all  in  that  place.  He  would  not  have  been  himself, 
had  he  not  felt  and  written  as  he  did  ;  and  he  could  not  have 
endured  to  live  under  the  grievance  of  remaining  silent  on  subjects, 
on  which  he  believed  it  to  be  his  most  sacred  duty  to  speak  what 
he  thought. 

As  it  was,  however,  the  one  sphere  played  into  the  other. 
Whatever  labour  he  bestowed  on  his  literary  works  was  only  part 
of  that  constant  progress  of  self-education  which  he  thought  essen- 
tial to  the  right  discharge  of  his  duties  as  a  teacher.  Whatever 
interest  he  felt  in  the  struggles  of  the  political  and  ecclesiastical 
world,  reacted  on  his  interest  in  the  school,  and  invested  it  in  his 
eyes  with  a  new  importance.  When  he  thought  of  the  social  evils 
of  the  country,  it  awakened  a  corresponding  desire  to  check  the 
thoughtless  waste  and  selfishness  of  school-boys  ;  a  corresponding 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


79 


sense  of  the  aggravation  of  those  evils  by  the  insolence  and  want 
of  sympathy  too  frequently  shown  by  the  children  of  the  wealthier 
classes  towards  the  lower  orders  ;  a  corresponding  desire  that  they 
should  there  imbibe  the  first  principles  of  reverence  to  law  and 
regard  for  the  poor,  which  the  spirit  of  the  age  seemed  to  him  so 
little  to  encourage.  When  he  thought  of  the  evils  of  the  Church,  he 
would  "  turn  from  the  thought  of  the  general  temple  in  ruins,  and 
see  whether  they  could  not,  within  the  walls  of  their  own  little 
particular  congregation,"  endeavour  to  realize  what  he  believed  to 
be  its  true  idea  ;  "  what  use  they  could  make  of  the  vestiges  of  it 
still  left  amongst  themselves — common  reading  of  the  Scriptures, 
common  prayer,  and  the  communion."  (Serm.  vol.  iv.  pp.  266, 
316.)  Thus,  "  whatever  of  striking  good  or  evil  happened  in  any 
part  of  the  wide  range  of  English  dominion," — "declared  on  what 
important  scenes  some  of  his  own  scholars  might  be  called  upon  to 
enter,"  "  whatever  new  and  important  things  took  place  in  the 
world  of  thought."  suggested  the  hope  "  that  they,  when  they  went 
forth  amidst  the  strifes  of  tongues  and  of  minds,  might  be  endowed 
with  the  spirit  of  wisdom  and  power."  (Serm.  vol.  v.  p.  405.) 
And  even  in  the  details  of  the  school,  it  would  be  curious  to  trace 
how  he  recognized  in  the  peculiar  vices  of  boys  the  same  evils 
which,  when  full  grown,  became  the  source  of  so  much  social  mis- 
chief;  how  he  governed  the  school  precisely  on  the  same  principles 
as  he  would  have  governed  a  great  empire  ;  how  constantly,  to  his 
own  mind  or  to  his  scholars,  he  exemplified  the  highest  truths  of 
theology  and  philosophy  in  the  simplest  relations  of  the  boys 
towards  each  other,  or  towards  him. 

In  entering  upon  his  office  he  met  with  difficulties,  many  of 
which  have  since  passed  away,  but  which  must  be  borne  in  mind,  if 
points  are  here  dwelt  upon,  that  have  now  ceased  to  be  important, 
but  were  by  no  means  insignificant  or  obvious  when  he  came  to 
Rugby.  Nor  did  his  system  at  once  attain  its  full  maturity.  He 
was  a  long  time  feeling  his  way  amongst  the  various  institutions 
which  he  formed  or  invented: — he  was  constantly  striving  after  an 
ideal  standard  of  perfection  which  he  was  conscious  that  he  had 
never  attained  ;  to  the  improvements  which,  in  a  short  time,  began 
to  take  place  in  other  schools — to  those  at  Harrow,  under  his  friend 
Dr.  Longley,  and  to  those  at  Winchester,  under  Dr.  Moberly,  to 
which  he  alluded  in  one  of  his  later  sermons,  (vol.  v.  p.  150,)  he 
often  looked  as  models  for  himself; — to  suggestions  from  persons 
very  much  younger  than  himself,  not  un frequently  from  his  former 
pupils,  with  regard  to  the  course  of  reading,  or  to  alterations  in  his 
manner  of  preaching,  or  to  points  of  discipline,  he  would  often 
listen  with  the  greatest  deference.  His  own  mind  was  constantly 
devising  new  measures  for  carrying  out  his  several  views.  "  The 
school,"  he  said  on  first  coming,  "  is  quite  enough  to  employ  any 
man's  love  of  reform ;  and  it  is  much  pleasanter  to  think  of  evils, 
which  you  may  yourself  hope  to  relieve,  than  "those  with  regard  to 


80  LIFE    OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

which  you  can  give  nothing  but  vain  wishes  and  opinions." 
"  There  is  enough  of  Toryism  in  my  nature,"  he  said,  on  evils  being 
mentioned  to  him  in  the  place,  "  to  make  me  very  apt  to  sleep  con- 
tentedly over  things  as  they  are,  and  therefore  I  hold  it  to  be  most 
true  kindness  when  any  one  directs  my  attention  to  points  in  the 
school  which  are  alleged  to  be  going  on  ill." 

The  perpetual  succession  of  changes  which  resulted  from  this, 
was  by  many  objected  to  as  excessive,  and  calculated  to  endanger 
the  stability  of  his  whole  system.  "  He  wakes  every  morning,"  it 
was  said  of  him,  "  with  the  impression  that  every  thing  is  an  open 
question."  But  rapid  as  might  be  the  alterations  to  which  the  de- 
tails of  his  system  were  subjected,  his  general  principles  remained 
fixed.  The  unwillingness  which  he  had,  even  in  common  life,  to 
act  in  any  individual  case  without  some  general  law  to  which  he 
might  refer  it,  ran  through  every  thing ;  and  at  times  it  would 
almost  seem  as  if  he  invented  universal  rules  with  the  express  ob- 
ject of  meeting  particular  cases.  Still,  if  in  smaller  matters  this 
gave  an  occasional  impression  of  fancifulness  or  inconsistency,  it 
was,  in  greater  matters,  one  chief  cause  of  the  confidence  which  he 
inspired.  Amidst  all  the  plans  that  came  before  him,  he  felt,  and 
he  made  others  feel,  that  whatever  might  be  the  merits  of  the  par- 
ticular question  at  issue,  there  were  principles  behind  which  lay  far 
mor '  deeply  seated  than  any  mere  question  of  school  government, 
which  he  was  ready  to  carry  through  at  whatever  cost,  and  from 
which  no  argument  or  menace  could  move  him. 

Of  the  mere  external  administration  of  the  school,  little  need 
here  be  said.  Many  difficulties  which  he  encountered  were  alike 
provoked  and  subdued  by  the  peculiarities  of  his  own  character. 
The  vehemence  with  which  he  threw  himself  into  a  contest  against 
evil,  and  the  confidence  with  which  he  assailed  it,  though  it  carried 
him  through  perplexities  to  which  a  more  cautious  man  would  have 
yielded,  led  him  to  disregard  interests  and  opinions  which  a  less 
earnest  or  a  less  sanguine  reformer  would  have  treated  with  greater 
consideration.  His  consciousness  of  his  own  integrity,  and  his 
contempt  for  worldly  advantage,  sometimes  led  him  to  require  from 
others  more  than  might  be  reasonably  expected  from  them,  and  to 
adopt  measures  which  the  world  at  large  was  sure  to  misinterpret ; 
yet  these  very  qualities,  in  proportion  as  they  became  more  appre- 
ciated, ultimately  secured  for  him  a  confidence  beyond  what  could 
have  been  gained  by  the  most  deliberate  circumspection.  But 
whatever  were  the  temporary  exasperations  and  excitements  thus 
produced  in  his  dealings  with  others,  they  were  gradually  removed 
by  the  increasing  control  over  himself  and  his  work  which  he  ac- 
quired in  later  years.  The  readiness  which  he  showed  to  acknow- 
ledge a  fault  when  once  convinced  of  it,  as  well  as  to  persevere  in 
kindness  even  when  he  thought  himself  injured,  succeeded  in  heal- 
ing breaches  which,  wish  a  less  forgiving  or  less  honest  temper, 
would  have  been  irreparable.     His  union  of  firmness  with  tender- 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  81 

ness  had  the  same  effect  in  the  settlement  of  some  of  the  perplexi- 
ties of  his  office,  which  in  others  would  have  resulted  from  art  and 
management ;  and  even  his  work  as  a  schoolmaster  cannot  be 
properly  appreciated  without  remembering  how,  in  the  end  of  his 
career,  he  rallied  round  him  the  public  feeling,  which  in  its  begin- 
ning and  middle,  as  will  appear  further  on,  had  been  so  widely- 
estranged  from  him. 

With  regard  to  the  trustees  of  the  school,  entirely  amicable  as 
were  his  usual  relations  with  them,  and  grateful  as  he  felt  to  them 
for  their  active  support  and  personal  friendliness,  he  from  the  first 
maintained  that  in  the  actual  working  of  the  school  he  must  be 
completely  independent,  and  that  their  remedy,  if  they  were  dissat- 
isfied, was  not  interference,  but  dismissal.  On  this  condition  he 
took  the  post,  and  any  attempt  to  control  either  his  administration 
of  the  school,  or  his  own  private  occupations,  he  felt  bound  to  resist 
"  as  a  duty,"  he  said  on  one  occasion,  "  not  only  to  himself,  but  to 
the  master  of  every  foundation  school  in  England." 

Of  his  intercourse  with  the  assistant  masters  it  is  for  obvious 
reasons  impossible  to  speak  in  any  detail.  Yet  it  would  be  injus- 
tice alike  to  them  and  to  him  not  to  bear  in  mind  how  earnestly  he 
dwelt  on  their  co-operation  as  an  essential  part  of  his  own  govern- 
ment of  the  school.  It  was  one  of  his  main  objects  to  increase  in 
all  possible  ways  their  importance.  By  raising  their  salaries  he 
obviated  the  necessity  of  their  taking  any  parochial  duty  which 
should  divert  their  attention  from  the  school,  and  procured  from  the 
Bishop  of  the  diocese  the  acknowledgment  of  their  situations  as 
titles  for  orders.  A  system  of  weekly  councils  was  established,  in 
which  all  school  matters  were  discussed,  and  he  seldom  or  never 
acted  in  any  important  point  of  school  discipline  without  consult- 
ing them.  It  was  his  endeavour,  partly  by  placing  the  boarding- 
houses  under  their  care,  partly  by  an  elaborate  system  of  private 
tuition,  which  was  introduced  with  this  express  purpose,  to  encour- 
age a  pastoral  and  friendly  relation  between  them  and  the  several 
classes  of  boys  intrusted  to  them.  What  he  was  in  his  department, 
in  short,  he  wished  every  one  of  them  to  be  in  theirs,  and  nothing 
rejoiced  him  more  than  to  hear  of  instances  in  which  he  thought 
that  boys  were  sent  to  the  school  for  the  sake  of  his  colleagues' 
instructions  rather  than  of  his  own.  It  was  his  labour  to  inspire 
them  with  the  views  of  education  and  of  life,  by  which  he  was 
possessed  himself ;  and  the  bond,  thus  gradually  formed,  especially 
when  in  his  later  time  several  of  those  who  had  been  his  pupils 
became  his  colleagues,  grew  deeper  and  stronger  with  each  succes- 
sive year  that  they  passed  in  the  place.  Out  of  his  own  family, 
there  was  no  circle  of  which  he  was  so  completely  the  animating 
principle,  as  amongst  those  who  co-operated  with  him  in  the  great 
practical  work  of  his  life  ;  none  in  which  his  loss  was  so  keenly 
felt  to  be  irreparable,  or  his  example  so  instinctively  regarded  in 
the  light  of  a  living  spring  of  action,  and  a  source  of  solemn  re- 
sponsibility, as  amongst  those  who  were^  called  to  continue  their 


82  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

labours  in  the  sphere  and  on  the  scene  which  had  been  enno- 
bled to  them  by  his  counsels  and  his  presence.1 

But  whatever  interest  attaches  to  the  more  external  circumstan- 
ces of  his  administration,  and  to  his  relations  with  others,  who 
were  concerned  in  it,  is  of  course  centered  in  his  own  personal  gov- 
ernment of  the  boys.  The  natural  effect  of  his  concentration  of 
interest  on  what  he  used  to  call  "  our  great  self,"  the  school,  was 
that  the  separate  existence  of  the  school  was  in  return  almost 
merged  in  him.  This  was  not  indeed  his  own  intention,  but  it  was 
precisely  because  he  thought  so  much  of  the  institution  and  so  lit- 
tle of  himself,  that  in  spite  of  his  efforts  to  make  it  work  independ- 
ently of  any  personal  influence  of  his  own,  it  became  so  thoroughly 
dependent  upon  him,  and  so  thoroughly  penetrated  with  his  spirit. 
From  one  end  of  it  to  the  other,  whatever  defects  it  had  were  his 
defects  ;  whatever  excellences  it  had  were  his  excellences.  It  was 
not  the  master  who  was  beloved  or  disliked  for  the  sake  of  the 
school,  but  the  school  which  was  beloved  or  disliked  for  the  sake  of 
the  master.  Whatever  peculiarity  of  character  was  impressed  on 
the  scholars  whom  it  sent  forth,  was  derived  not  from  the  genius  of 
the  place,  but  from  the  genius  of  the  man.  Throughout,  whether 
in  the  school  itself,  or  in  its  after  effects,  the  one  image  that  we  have 
before  us  is  not  Rugby,  but  Arnold. 

1  His  views  will  perhaps  be  best  explained  by  the  two  following  letters : 

LETTER  OF  INQUIRY  FOR  A  MASTER. 

What  I  want  is  a  man  who  is  a  Christian  and  a  gentleman,  an  active 

man,  and  one  who  has  common  sense,  and  understands  boys.  I  do  not  so  much  care 
about  scholarship,  as  he  will  have  immediately  under  him  the  lowest  forms  in  the  school  ; 
but  yet,  on  second  thoughts,  I  do  care  about  it  very  much,  because  his  pupils  may  be  in  the 
highest  forms ;  and  besides,  I  think  that  even  the  elements  are  best  taught  by  a  man 
who  has  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  matter.  However,  if  one  must  give  way,  I  prefer 
activity  of  mind  and  an  interest  in  his  work  to  high  scholarship  :  for  the  one  may  be 
acquired  far  more  easily  than  the  other.  I  should  wish  it  also  to  be  understood  that  the 
new  master  may  be  called  upon  to  take  boarders  in  his  house,  it  being  my  intention  for 
the  future  to  require  this  of  all  masters  as  I  see  occasion,  that  so  in  time  the  boarding- 
houses  may  die  a  natural  death With  this  to   offer,  I  think  I  have  a  right 

to  look  rather  high  for  the  man  whom  I  fix  upon,  and  it  is  my  great  object  to  get  here  a 
society  of  intelligent,  gentlemanly,  and  active  men,  who  may  permanently  keep  up  the 
character  of  the  school,  and  make  it  "  vile  damnum,"  if  I  were  to  break  my  neck  to- 
morrow. 


LETTER    TO    A    MASTER    ON    HIS    APPOINTMENT. 

The  qualifications  which   I  deem  essential  to  the  due   performance  ot 

a  master's  duties  here,  may  in  brief  be  expressed  as  the  spirit  of  a  Christian  and 
a  gentleman, — that  a  man  should  enter  his  business  not  U  napipyov,  but  as  a  substantive 
and  most  important  duty  ;  that  he  should  devote  himself  to  it  as  the  especial  branch 
of  the  ministerial  calling  which  he  has  chosen  to  follow — that  belonging  to  a  great 
public  institution,  and  standing  in  a  public  and  conspicuous  situation,  he  should  study 
things  "  lovely  and  of  good  report,"  that  is,  that  he  should  be  public  spirited,  liberal, 
and  entering  heartily  into  the  interest,  honour,  and  general  respectability  and  distinc- 
tion of  the  society  which  he  has  joined  ;  and  that  he  should  have  sufficient  vigour  of 
mind  and  thirst  for  knowledge  to  persist  in  adding  to  his  own  stores  without  neglect- 
ing the  full  improvement  of  those  whom  he  is  teaching.  I  think  our  masterships  here 
offer  a  noble  field  of  duty,  and  I  would  not  bestow  them  on  any  one  whom  I  thought 
would  undertake  them  without  entering  into  the  spirit  of  our  system  heart  and  hand. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


83 


What  was  his  great  object  has  already  appeared  from  his  let- 
ters ;  namely,  the  hope  of  making  the  school  a  place  of  really 
Christian  education  ;  words  which  in  his  mouth  meant  something 
very  different  from  the  general  professions  which  every  good  teach- 
er must  be  supposed  to  make,  and  which  no  teacher  even  in  the 
worst  times  of  English  education  could  have  openly  ventured  to 
disclaim ;  but  which  it  is  exceedingly  difficult  so  to  explain,  as 
that  they  shall  not  seem  to  exceed  or  fall  short  of  the  truth. 

It  was  not  an  attempt  merely  to  give  more  theological  instruc- 
tion, or  to  introduce  sacred  words  into  school  admonitions  ;  there 
may  have  been  some  occasions  for  religious  advice  that  might  have 
been  turned  to  more  advantage,  some  religious  practices  which 
might  have  been  more  constantly  or  effectually  encouraged.  His 
design  arose  out  of  the  very  nature  of  his  office  :  the  relation  of  an 
instructor  to  his  pupils  was  to  him,  like  all  the  other  relations  of 
human  life,  only  in  a  healthy  state,  when  subordinate  to  their  com- 
mon relation  to  God.  "  The  business  of  a  schoolmaster,"  he  used 
to  say,  "  no  less  than  that  of  a  parish  minister,  is  the  cure  of 
souls."  The  idea  of  a  Christian  school,  again,  was  to  him  the  na- 
tural result,  so  to  speak,  of  the  very  idea  of  a  school  in  itself ;  ex 
actly  as  the  idea  of  a  Christian  State  seemed  to  him  to  be  involv- 
ed in  the  very  idea  of  a  state  itself.  The  intellectual  training  was 
not  for  a  moment  underrated,  and  the  machinery  of  the  school  was 
left  to  have  its  own  way.  But  he  looked  upon  the  whole  as  bear- 
ing on  the  advancement  of  the  one  end  of  all  instruction  and  edu- 
cation ;  the  boys  were  still  treated  as  schoolboys,  but  as  school- 
boys who  must  grow  up  to  be  Christian  men  ;  whose  age  did  not 
prevent  their  faults  from  being  sins,  or  their  excellences  from  being 
noble  and  Christian  virtues ;  whose  situation  did  not  of  itself 
make  the  application  of  Christian  principles  to  their  daily  lives  an 
impracticable  vision. 

His  education,  in  short,  it  was  once  observed  amidst  the  vehe- 
ment outcry  by  which  he.  used  to  be  assailed,  was  not  (according  to 
the  popular  phrase)  based  upon  religion,  but  was  itself  religious. 
It  was  this  chiefly  which  gave  a  oneness  to  his  work  amidst  a 
great  variety  of  means  and  occupations,  and  a  steadiness  to  the 
general  system  amidst  its  almost  unceasing  change.  It  was  this 
which  makes  it  difficult  to  separate  one  part  of  his  work  from 
another,  and  which  often  made  it  impossible  for  his  pupils  to  say, 
in  after  life,  of  much  that  had  influenced  them,  whether  they  had 
derived  it  from  what  was  spoken  in  school,  in  the  pulpit,  or  in  pri- 
vate. And,  therefore,  when  either  in  direct  religious  teaching,  or 
on  particular  occasions,  Christian  principles  were  expressly  intro- 
duced by  him,  they  had  not  the  appearance  of  a  rhetorical  flourish, 
or  of  a  temporary  appeal  to  the  feelings;  they  were  looked  upon 
as  the  natural  expression  of  what  was  constantly  implied  :  it  was 
felt  that  he  had  the  power,  in  which  so  many  teachers  have  been 
deficient,  of  saying  what  he  did  mean,  and  of  hot  saying  what  he 
did  not  mean, — the  power  of  doing  what  was  right,  and  speaking 


84  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

what  was  true,  and  thinking  what  was  good,  independently  of  any- 
professional  or  conventional  notions  that  so  to  act,  speak,  or  think, 
was  becoming  or  expedient. 

It  was  not  merely  an  abstract  school,  but  an  English  public 
school,  which  he  looked  upon  as  the  sphere  in  which  this  was  to 
be  effected.  There  was  something  to  him,  at  the  very  outset,  full 
of  interest  in  a  great  place  of  national  education,  such  as  he  con- 
sidered a  public  school  to  be. 

"  There  is,"  he  said,  "  or  there  ought  to  be,  something  very  ennobling  in 
being  connected  with  an  establishment  at  once  ancient  and  magnificent, 
where  all  about  us,  and  all  the  associations  belonging  the  objects  around  us, 
should  be  great,  splendid,  and  elevating.  What  an  individual  ought  and 
often  does  derive  from  the  feeling  that  he  is  born  of  an  old  and  illustrious 
race,  from  being  familiar  from  his  childhood  with  the  walls  and  trees  which 
speak  of  the  past  no  less  than  of  the  present,  and  make  both  full  of  images 
of  greatness ;  this,  in  an  inferior  degree,  belongs  to  every  member  of  an  an- 
cient and  celebrated  place  of  education.  In  this  respect  every  one  of  us  has 
a  responsibility  imposed  upon  him,  which  I  wish  that  we  more  considered. 
(Serm.  vol.  hi.  p.  210.) ' 

This  feeling  of  itself  dictated  the  preservation  of  the  old  school 
constitution  as  far  as  it  was  possible,  and  he  was  very  careful  not 
to  break  through  any  customs  which  connected  the  institution, 
however  slightly,  with  the  past.  But  in  this  constitution  there 
were  peculiarities  of  far  greater  importance  in  his  eyes  for  good  or 
evil,  than  any  mere  imaginative  associations  ;  the  peculiarities 
which  distinguish  the  English  public  school  system  from  almost 
every  other  system  of  education  in  Europe,  and  which  are  all  found- 
ed on  the  fact  that  a  large  number  of  boys  are  left  for  a  large  por- 
tion of  their  time  to  form  an  independent  society  of  their  own,  in 
which  the  influence,  that  they  exercise  over  each  other,  is  far  great- 
er than  can  possibly  be  exercised  by  the  masters,  even  if  multi- 
plied beyond  their  present  number. 

How  keenly  he  felt  the  evils  resulting  from  this  system,  and  the 
difficulty  of  communicating  to  it  a  really  Christian  character,  will 

1  It  was  one  of  his  most  cherished  wishes  at  Rugby,  to  be  enabled  to  leave  to  the 
school  some  permanent  rank  or  dignity,  which  should  in  some  measure  compensate  for 
its  total  barrenness  of  all  historical  associations,  which  he  always  felt  painfully  in  con- 
trast with  his  own  early  school,  Winchester.  Thus,  anTongst  other  schemes,  he  exerted 
himself  to  procure  a  medal  or  some  similar  favour  from  the  Crown.  "  I  can  truly  say," 
he  wrote  in  1840,  "  that  nothing  which  could  have  been  given  me  in  the  way  of  prefer- 
ment would  have  been  so  gratifying  to  me  as  to  have  been  the  means  in  any  degree  of 
obtaining  what  I  think  would  be  not  more  an  honour  than  a  real  and  lasting  benefit  to 
the  school."  The  general  grounds  on  which  he  thought  this  desirable,  may  best  be 
stated  in  his  own  words:  "  I  think  that  it  would  be  well  on  public  grounds  to  confer 
what  may  be  considered  as  analogous  to  a  peerage  conferred  on  some  of  the  wealthiest 
commoners,  or  to  a  silk  gown  bestowed  on  distinguished  lawyers  ;  that  is,  that  when 
schools  had  risen  from  a  very  humble  origin  to  a  considerable  place  in  the  country,  and 
had  continued  so  for  some  time,  some  royal  gift,  however  small,  should  be  bestowed  upon 
them,  merely  as  a  sort  of  recognition  or  confirmation,  on  the  part  of  the  Crown,  of  the 
courtesy  rank  which  they  had  acquired  already.  I  have  always  believed  that  one  of  the 
simplest  and  most  effectual  means  of  improving  the  foundation  schools  throughout  the 
country,  would  be  to  hold  out  the  hope  of  some  mark  of  encouragement  from  the  Crown, 
as  they  might  happen  to  deserve  it." 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


85 


be  evident  to  any  one  who  knows  the  twelfth  Sermon  in  his  se- 
cond volume,  in  which  he  unfolded,  at  the  beginning  of  his  ca- 
reer, the  causes  which  had  led  good  men  to  declare  that  "  public 
schools  are  the  seats  and  nurseries  of  vice  ;"  or  the  three  Sermons 
on  "  Christian  Schools"  in  his  fifth  volume,  in  which,  with  the 
added  experience  of  ten  years,  he  analyzed  the  six  evils  by  which 
he  "  supposed  that  great  schools  were  likely  to  be  corrupted,  and 
to  be  changed  from  the  likeness  of  God's  temple  to  that  of  a  den  of 
thieves."     (Vol.  v.  p.  74.) 

Sometimes  he  would  be  led  to  doubt  whether  it  were  really 
compatible  with  the  highest  principles  of  education ;  sometimes 
he  would  seem  to  have  an  earnest  and  almost  impatient  desire  to 
free  himself  from  it.  Still,  on  the  whole,  it  was  always  on  a  re- 
formation, not  on  an  overthrow,  of  the  existing  constitution  of  the 
school  that  he  endeavoured  to  act.  "  Another  system,"  he  said, 
"may  be  better  in  itself,  but  I  am  placed  in  this  system,  and  am 
bound  to  try  what  I  can  make  of  it." 

With  his  usual  undoubting  confidence  in  what  he  believed  to 
be  a  general  law  of  Providence,  he  based  his  whole  management 
of  the  school  on  his  early  formed  and  yearly  increasing  conviction 
that  what  he  had  to  look  for,  both  intellectually  and  morally,  was 
not  performance  but  promise  ;  that  the  very  freedom  and  independ- 
ence of  school  life,  which  in  itself  he  thought  so  dangerous,  might 
be  made  the  best  preparation  for  Christian  manhood  ;  and  he  did 
not  hesitate  to  apply  to  his  scholars  the  principle  which  seemed  to 
him  to  have  been  adopted  in  the  training  of  the  childhood  of  the 
human  race  itself.1  He  shrunk  from  pressing  on  the  conscience  of 
boys  rules  of  action  which  he  felt  they  were  not  yet  able  to  bear, 
and  from  enforcing  actions  which,  though  right  in  themselves, 
would  in  boys  be  performed  from  wrong  motives. 

Keenly  as  he  felt  the  risk  and  fatal  consequences  of  the  failure 
of  this  trial,  still  it  was  his  great,  sometimes  his  only  support,  to  be- 
lieve that  "  the  character  is  braced  amid  such  scenes  to  a  greater 
beauty  and  firmness,  than  it  ever  can  attain  without  enduring  and 
witnessing  them.  Our  work  here  would  be  absolutely  unendurable 
if  we  did  not  bear  in  mind  that  we  should  look  forward  as  well  as 
backward — if  we  did  not  remember  that  the  victory  of  fallen  man 
lies  not  in  innocence  but  in  tried  virtue."  (Serm.  vol.  iv.  p.  7.)  "  I 
hold  fast,"  he  said,  "  to  the  great  truth,  that  '  blessed  is  he  that  over- 
cometh ;' "  and  he  writes  in  1837 — "  Of  all  the  painful  things 
connected  with  my  employment,  nothing  is  equal  to  the  grief  of 
seeing  a  boy  come  to  school  innocent  and  promising,  and  tracing 
the  corruption  of  his  character  from  the  influence  of  the  tempta- 
tions around  him,  in  the  very  place  which  ought  to  have  strength- 
ened and  improved  it.  But  in  most  cases  those  who  come  with 
a  character  of  positive  good  are  benefited ;  it  is  the  neutral  and 

1  Sermons,  vol.  ii.  p.  440. 


86 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


indecisive   characters   which  are  apt  to   be   decided  for  evil  by 
schools,  as  they  would  be  in  fact  by  any  other  temptation." 

But  this  very  feeling  led  him  with  the  greater  eagerness  to 
catch  at  every  means,  by  which  the  trial  might  be  shortened  or 
alleviated.     "  Can   the   change  from  childhood   to  manhood   be 
hastened,  without  prematurely  exhausting  the  faculties  of  body  or 
mind?"  (Serm.  vol.  iv.  p.  19,)  was  one  of  the  chief  questions  on 
which  his  mind  was  constantly  at  work,  and  which  in  the  judg- 
ment of  some  he  was  disposed  to  answer  too  readily  in  the  affirma- 
tive.    It  was  with  the  elder  boys,  of  course,  that  he  chiefly  acted 
on  this  principle,   but  with  all   above  the  very  young  ones  he 
trusted  to  it  more  or  less.     Firmly  as  he  believed  that  a  time  of 
trial  was  inevitable,  he  believed  no  less  firmly  that  it  might  be 
passed  at  public  schools  sooner  than  under  other  circumstances  ; 
and,  in  proportion  as  he  disliked  the  assumption  of  a  false  manli- 
ness, in  boys,  was  his  desire  to  cultivate  in  them  true  manliness,  as 
the  only  step  to  something  higher,  and  to  dwell  on  earnest  princi- 
ple and  moral  thoughtfulness,  as  the  great  and   distinguishing 
mark  between  good  and  evil.1     Hence  his  wish  that  as  much  as 
possible  should  be  done  by  the  boys,  and  nothing/or  them ;  hence 
arose  his  practice,  in  which  his  own  delicacy  of  feeling  and  up- 
rightness of  purpose  powerfully  assisted  him,  of  treating  the  boys 
as  gentlemen  and  reasonable  beings,  of  making  them  respect  them- 
selves by  the  mere  respect  he  showed  to  them  ;  of  showing  that 
he  appealed  and  trusted  to  their  own  common  sense  and  con- 
science.    Lying,  for  example,  to  the  masters,  he  made  a  great 
moral  offence ;   placing  implicit  confidence  in  a  boy's  assertion, 
and  then,  if  a  falsehood  was  discovered,  punishing  it  severely, — 
in  the  upper  part  of  the  school,  when  persisted  in,  with  expulsion. 
Even  with  the  lower  forms  he  never  seemed  to  be  on  the  watch 
for  boys  ;  and  in  the  higher  forms  any  attempt  at  further  proof  of 
an  assertion  was  immediately  checked : — "If  you  say  so,  that  is 
quite  enough — of  course  I  believe  your  word  ;"  and  there  grew  up 
in  consequence  a  general  feeling  that  "  it  was  a  shame  to  tell 
Arnold  a  lie — he  always  believes  one." 

Perhaps  the  liveliest  representation  of  this  general  spirit,  as 
distinguished  from  its  exemplification  in  particular  parts  of  the 
discipline  and  instruction,  would  be  formed  by  recalling  his  man- 
ner, as  he  appeared  in  the  great  school,  where  the  boys  used  to 
meet  when  the  whole  school  was  assembled  collectively,  and  not 
in  its  different  forms  or  classes.  Then,  whether  on  his  usual  en- 
trance every  morning  to  prayers  before  the  first  lesson,  or.  on  the 
more  special  emergencies  which  might  require  his  presence,  he 
seemed  to  stand  before  them,  not  merely  as  the  head-master,  but 
as  the  representative  of  the  school.  There  he  spoke  to  them  as 
members  together  with  himself  of  the  same  great  institution,  whose 
character  and  reputation  they  had  to  sustain  as  well  as  he.     He 

1  See  Sermons,  vol.  iv.  p.  99. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  q-j 

would  dwell  on  the  satisfaction  he  had  in  being  head  of  a  society, 
where  noble  and  honourable  feelings  were  encouraged,  or  on  the 
disgrace  which  he  felt  in  hearing  of  acts  of  disorder  or  violence, 
such  as  in  the  humbler  ranks  of  life  would  render  them  amenable 
to  the  laws  of  their  country ;  or  again,  on  the  trust  which  he 
placed  in  their  honour  as  gentlemen,  and  the  baseness  of  any  in- 
stance in  which  it  was  abused.  "  Is  this  a  Christian  school  ?  " 
he  indignantly  asked  at  the  end  of  one  of  those  addresses,  in 
which  he  had  spoken  of  an  extensive  display  of  bad  feeling 
amongst  the  boys,  and  then  added, — "  I  cannot  remain  here  if  all 
is  to  be  carried  on  by  constraint  and  force ;  if  I  am  to  be  here  as  a 
gaoler,  I  will  resign  my  office  at  once."  And  few  scenes  can  be 
recorded  more  characteristic  of  him  than  on  one  of  these  occasions, 
when,  in  consequence  of  a  disturbance,  he  had  been  obliged  to 
send  away  several  boys,  and  when,  in  the  midst  of  the  general 
spirit  of  discontent  which  this  excited,  he  stood  in  his  place  before 
the  assembled  school,  and  said,  "  It  is  not  necessary  that  this 
should  be  a  school  of  three  hundred,  or  one  hundred,  or  of  fifty 
boys ;  but  it  is  necessary  that  it  should  be  a  school  of  Christian 
gentlemen." 

The  means  of  carrying  out  these  principles  were  of  course 
various ;  they  may,  however,  for  the  sake  of  convenience,  be 
viewed  under  the  divisions  of  the  general  discipline  of  the  school, 
the  system  of  instruction,  the  chapel  services,  and  his  own  personal 
intercourse  and  influence. 

I.  In  considering  his  general  management  of  the  discipline  of 
the  school,  it  will  only  be  possible  to  touch  on  its  leading  features. 

1.  He  at  once  made  a  great  alteration  in  the  whole  system  of 
punishments  in  the  higher  part  of  the  school,  "  keeping  it  as  much 
as  possible  in  the  back-ground,  and  by  kindness  and  encourage- 
ment attracting  the  good  and  noble  feelings  of  those  with  whom 
he  had  to  deal."  '  As  this  appears  more  distinctly  elsewhere,  it  is 
needless  to  enlarge  upon  it  here ;  but  a  few  words  may  be  ne- 
cessary to  explain  the  view  with  which,  for  the  younger  part  of 
the  school,  he  made  a  point  of  maintaining,  to  a  certain  extent, 
the  old  discipline  of  public  schools. 

"  The  beau  ideal  of  school  discipline  with  regard  to  young  boys  would 
seem  to  be  this,  that,  whilst  corporal  punishment  was  retained  on  principle, 
as  fitly  answering  to  and  marking  the  naturally  inferior  state  of  boyhood, 
and  therefore  as  conveying  no  peculiar  degradation  to  persons  in  such  a 
state,  we  should  cherish  and  encourage  to  the  utmost  all  attempts  made  by 
the  several  boys,  as  individuals,  to  escape  from  the  natural  punishment  of 
their  age,  by  rising  above  its  naturally  low  tone  of  principle." 

Flogging,  therefore,  for  the  younger  part,  he  retained,  but  it  was 
confined  to  moral  offences,  such  as  lying,  drinking,  and  habitual 
idleness,  while  his  aversion  to  inflicting  it  rendered  it  still  less  fre- 
quent in  practice  than  it  would  have  been  according  to  the  rule  he 
had  laid  down  for  it.     But  in  answer  to  the  argument  used  in  a 

1  Sermons,  vol.  iv.  p.  106.     The  whole  sermon  is  a  full  exposition  of  his  view. 


88 


LIFE  OP  DR.  ARNOLD. 


liberal  journal,  that  it  was  even  for  these  offences  and  for  this  age 
degrading,  he  replied  with  characteristic  emphasis — 

"  I  know  well  of  what  feeling  this  is  the  expression ;  it  originates  in  that 
proud  notion  of  personal  independence  which  is  neither  reasonable  nor 
Christian — but  essentially  barbarian.  It  visited  Europe  with  all  the  curses 
of  the  age  of  chivalry,  and  is  threatening  us  now  with  those  of  Jacobinism. 

At  an  age  when  it  is  almost  impossible  to  find  a  true  manly 

sense  of  the  degradation  of  guilt  or  faults,  where  is  the  wisdom  of  encourag- 
ing a  fantastic  sense  of  the  degradation  of  personal  correction  ?  What  can 
be  more  false,  or  more  adverse  to  the  simplicity,  sobriety,  and  humbleness 
of  mind,  which  are  the  best  ornament  of  youth,  and  the  best  promise  of  a 
noble  manhood  ?"2 

2.  But  his  object  was  pf  course  far  higher  than  to  check  par- 
ticular vices.  "  What  I  want  to  see  in  the  school,"  he  said,  "  and 
what  I  cannot  find,  is  an  abhorrence  of  evil :  I  always  think  of 
the  Psalm,  l  Neither  doth  he  abhor  any  thing  that  is  evil.' " 
Amongst  all  the  causes  which  in  his  judgment  contributed  to  the 
absence  of  this  feeling,  and  to  the  moral  childishness,  which  he 
considered  the  great  curse  of  public  schools,  the  chief  seemed  to 
him  to  lie  in  the  spirit  which  was  there  encouraged  of  combination, 
of  companionship,  of  excessive  deference  to  the  public  opinion 
prevalent  in  the  school.  Peculiarly  repugnant  as  this  spirit  was 
at  once  to  his  own  reverence  for  lawful  authority,  and  to  his  dis- 
like of  servile  submission  to  unlawful  authority ;  fatal  as  he 
deemed  it  to  all  approach  to  sympathy  between  himself  and  his 
scholars — to  all  free  and  manly  feeling  in  individual  boys — to  all 
real  and  permanent  improvement  of  the  institution  itself— it  gave 
him  more  pain  when  brought  prominently  before  him,  than  any 
other  evil  in  the  school.  At  the  very  sight  of  a  knot  of  vicious  or 
careless  boys  gathered  together  around  the  great  school-house  fire, 
"  It  makes  me  think,"  he  would  say,  "  that  I  see  the  Devil  in  the 
midst  of  them."  From  first  to  last,  it  was  the  great  subject  to 
which  all  his  anxiety  converged.  No  half  year  ever  passed  with- 
out his  preaching  upon  it — he  turned  it  over  and  over  in  every 
possible  point  of  view — he  dwelt  on  it  as  the  one  master-fault  of 
all.  "  If  the  spirit  of  Elijah  were  to  stand  in  the  midst  of  us,  and 
we  were  to  ask  him,  '  What  shall  we  do  then  ? '  his  answer  would 
be,  '  Fear  not,  nor  heed  one  another's  voices,  but  fear  and  heed  the 
voice  of  God  only.'  "     (MS.  Serm.  on  Luke,  iii.  10.     1833.) 

Against  this  evil  he  felt  that  no  efforts  of  good  individual  exam- 
ple, or  of  personal  sympathy  with  individual  masters,  could  act 
effectually,  unless  there  were  something  to  counteract  it  constantly 
amongst  the  boys  themselves. 

"  He,  therefore,  who  wishes"  (to  use  his  own  words)  "really  to  improve 
public  education  would  do  well  to  direct  his  attention  to  this  point,  and  to 
consider  how  there  can  be  infused  into  a  society  of  boys  such  elements  as, 
without  being  too  dissimilar  to  coalesce  thoroughly  with  the  rest,  shall  vet 
be  so  superior  as  to  raise  the  character  of  the  whole.     It  would  be  absurd  to 

1  Journ.  Educ.  vol.  ix.  pp.  281,  284. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  gg 

say  that  any  school  has  as  yet  fully  solved  this  problem.  I  am  convinced, 
however,  that  in  the  peculiar  relation  of  the  highest  form  to  the  rest  of  the 
boys,  such  as  it  exists  in  our  great  public  schools,  there  is  to  be  found  the 
best  means  of  answering  it.  This  relation  requires  in  many  respects  to  be 
improved  in  its  character,  some  of  its  features  should  be  softened,  others  ele- 
vated ;  but  here,  and  here  only,  is  the  engine  which  can  effect  the  end  de- 
sired."    (Journ.  Ed.  p.  292.) 

In  other  words,  he  determined  to  use,  and  to  improve  to  the 
utmost,  the  existing  machinery  of  the  Sixth  Form,  and  of  fagging  ; 
understanding  by  the  Sixth  Form  the  thirty  boys  who  composed 
the  highest  class — "  those  who  having  risen  to  the  highest  form 
in  the  school,  will  probably  be  at  once  the  oldest  and  the  strongest, 
and  the  cleverest ;  and  if  the  school  be  well  ordered,  the  most 
respectable  in  application  and  general  character :"  and  by  fagging, 
"  the  power  given  by  the  supreme  authorities  of  the  school  to  the 
Sixth  Form,  to  be  exercised  by  them  over  the  lower  boys,  for  the 
sake  of  securing  a  regular  government  amongst  the  boys  them- 
selves, and  avoiding  the  evils  of  anarchy,  in  other  words,  of  the 
lawless  tyranny  of  physical  strength."     (Jour.  Ed.  p.  286,  287.)' 

In  many  points  he  took  the  institution  as  he  found  it,  and  as 
he  remembered  it  at  Winchester.  The  responsibility  of  checking 
bad  practices  without  the  intervention  of  the  masters,  the  occasional 
settlement  of  difficult  cases  of  school  government,  the  subjection  of 
brute  force  to  some  kind  of  order,  involved  in  the  maintenance  of 
such  an  authority,  had  been  more  or  less  produced  under  the  old 
system  both  at  Rugby  and  elsewhere.  But  his  zeal  in  its  defence, 
and  his  confident  reliance  upon  it  as  the  keystone  of  his  whole 
government,  were  eminently  characteristic  of  himself.  It  was  a 
point  moreover  on  which  the  spirit  of  the  age  set  strongly  and 
increasingly  against  him,  on  which  there  was  a  general  tendency 
to  yield  to  the  popular  outcry,  and  on  which  the  clamour,  that  at 
one  time  assailed  him,  was  ready  to  fasten  as  a  subject  where  all 
parties  could  concur  in  their  condemnation.-  But  he  was  immove- 
able ;  and,  though  on  his  first  coming  he  had  felt  himself  called 
upon  rather  to  restrain  the  authority  of  the  Sixth  Form  from 
abuses,  than  to  guard  it  from  encroachments,  yet  now  that  the 
whole  system  was  denounced  as  cruel  and  absurd,  he  delighted  to 
stand  forth  as  its  champion.  The  power,  which  was  most  strongly 
condemned,  of  personal  chastisement  vested  in  the  Praepostors  over 
those  who  resisted  their  authority,  he  firmly  maintained  as  essential 
to  the  general  support  of  the  good  order  of  the  place ;  and  there 
was  no  obloquy  which  he  would  not  undergo  in  the  protection  of 
a  boy,  who  had  by  due  exercise  of  this  discipline  made  himself 
obnoxious  to  the  school,  the  parents,  or  the  public. 

But  the  importance,  which  he  attached  to  it,  arose  from  his 

'  It  has  not  been  thought  necessary  here  to  enter  at  length  into  his  defence  of  the 
general  system  of  fagging,  especially  as  it  may  be  seen  by  those  who  are  interested  ir> 
the  subject  in  the  article  in  the  ninth  volume  of  the  Quarterly  Journal  of  Education, 
from  which  the  above  extracts  have  been  taken,  and  to  which  an  answer  was  made  by 
the  Editor  in  the  ensuing  number. 

7 


go  LIFE   OP   DR.  ARNOLD. 

regarding  it  not  only  as  an  efficient  engine  of  discipline,  but  as  the 
chief  means  of  creating  a  respect  for  moral  and  intellectual  excel- 
lence, and  of  diffusing  his  own  influence  through  the  mass  of  the 
school.  Whilst  he  made  the  Praepostors  rely  upon  his  support  in 
all  just  use  of  their  authority,  as  well  as  on  his  severe  judgment  of 
all  abuse  of  it,  he  endeavoured  also  to  make  them  feel  that  they 
were  actually  fellow-workers  with  him  for  the  highest  good  of  the 
school,  upon  the  highest  principles  and  motives — that  they  had, 
with  him,  a  moral  responsibility  and  a  deep  interest  in  the  real 
welfare  of  the  place.  Occasionally  during  his  whole  stay,  and 
regularly  at  the  beginning  or  end  of  every  half-year  during  his 
later  years,  he  used  to  make  short  addresses  to  them  on  their 
duties,  or  on  the  general  state  of  the  school,  one  of  which,  as  an 
illustration  of  his  general  mode  of  speaking  and  acting  with  them, 
it  has  been  thought  worth  while  to  give,  as  nearly  as  his  pupils 
could  remember  it,  in  the  very  words  he  used.  After  making  a 
few  remarks  to  them  on  their  work  in  the  lessons:  "I  will  now," 
he  proceeded,  "  say  a  few  words  to  you,  as  I  promised.  Speaking 
to  you,  as  to  young  men  who  can  enter  into  what  I  say,  I  wish 
you  to  feel  that  you  have  another  duty  to  perform,  holding  the 
situation  that  you  do  in  the  school ;  of  the  importance  of  this  I 
wish  you  all  to  feel  sensible,  and  of  the  enormous  influence  you 
possess,  in  ways  in  which  we  cannot,  for  good  or  for  evil,  on  all 
below  you ;  and  I  wish  you  to  see  fully  how  many  and  great  are 
the  opportunities  offered  to  you  here  of  doing  good — good,  too,  of 
lasting  benefit  to  yourselves  as  well  as  to  others  ;  there  is  no  place, 
where  you  will  find  better  opportunities  for  some  time  to  come,  and 
you  will  then  have  reason  to  look  back  to  your  life  here  with  the 
greatest  pleasure.  You  will  soon  find,  when  you  change  your  life 
here  for  that  at  the  Universities,  how  very  few  in  comparison  they 
are  there,  however  willing  you  may  then  be, — at  any  rate  during 
the  first  part  of  your  life  there.  That  there  is  good,  working  in 
the  school,  I  most  fully  believe,  and  we  cannot  feel  too  thankful 
for  it ;  in  many  individual  instances,  in  different  parts  of  the  school, 
I  have  seen  the  change  from  evil  to  good — to  mention  instances 
would  of  course  be  wrong.  The  state  of  the  school  is  a  subject  of 
congratulation  to  us  all,  but  only  so  far  as  to  encourage  us  to  in- 
creased exertions  ;  and  I  am  sure  we  ought  all  to  feel  it  a  subject 
of  most  sincere  thankfulness  to  God ;  but  we  must  not  stop  here  ; 
we  must  exert  ourselves  with  earnest  prayer  to  God  for  its  continu- 
ance. And  what  I  have  often  said  before,  I  repeat  now :  what  we 
must  look  for  here  is,  1st,  religious  and  moral  principles  ;  2ndly, 
gentlemanly  conduct ;  3rdly,  intellectual  ability." 

Nothing,  accordingly,  so  shook  his  hopes  of  doing  good,  as 
weakness  or  misconduct  in  the  Sixth.  "  You  should  feel,"  he  said, 
"  like  officers  in  the  army  or  navy,  whose  want  of  moral  courage 
would,  indeed,  be  thought  cowardice."  "  When  I  have  confidence 
in  the  Sixth,"  was  the  end  of  one  of  his  farewell  addresses,  "there 
is  no  post  in  England  which  I  would  exchange  for  this ;  but  if 
they  do  not  support  me,  I  must  go." 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  9^ 

It  may  well  be  imagined  how  important  this  was  as  an  instru- 
ment of  education,  independently  of  the  weight  of  his  own  personal 
qualities.  Exactly  at  the  age  when  boys  begin  to  acquire  some 
degree  of  self-respect,  and  some  desire  for  the  respect  of  others,  they 
were  treated  with  confidence  by  one,  whose  confidence  they  could 
not  but  regard  as  worth  having  ;  and  found  themselves  in  a  station, 
where  their  own  dignity  could  not  be  maintained,  except  by  con- 
sistent good  conduct.  And  exactly  at  a  time  when  manly  aspira- 
tions begin  to  expand,  they  found  themselves  invested  with  func- 
tions of  government,  great  beyond  their  age,  yet  naturally  growing 
out  of  their  position  ;  whilst  the  ground  of  solemn  responsibility, 
on  which  they  were  constantly  taught  that  their  authority  rested, 
had  a  general,  though  of  course  not  universal,  tendency  to  counter- 
act any  notions  of  mere  personal  self-importance. 

"  I  cannot  deny  that  you  have  an  anxious  duty — a  duty  which  some 
might  suppose  was  too  heavy  for  your  years.  But  it  seems  to  me,  the  no- 
bler as  well  as  the  truer  way  of  stating  the  case  to  say,  that  it  is  the  great 
privilege  of  this  and  other  such  institutions,  to  anticipate  the  common  time 
of  manhood  ;  that  by  their  whole  training  they  fit  the  character  for  manly 
duties  at  an  age  when,  under  another  system,  such  duties  would  be  imprac- 
ticable ;  that  there  is  not  imposed  upon  you  too  heavy  a  burden ;  but  that 
you  are  capable  of  bearing,  without  injury,  what  to  others  might  be  a  bur- 
den, and  therefore  to  diminish  your  duties  and  lessen  your  responsibility 
would  be  no  kindness,  but  a  degradation — an  affront  to  you  and  to  the 
school."     (Serm.  vol.  v.  p.  59.) 

3.  Whilst  he  looked  to  the  Sixth  Form,  as  the  o:dinary  correct- 
ive for  the  ordinary  evils  of  a  public  school,  he  still  felt  that  these 
evils  from  time  to  time  developed  themselves  in  a  shape  which  de- 
manded peculiar  methods  to  meet  them,  and  which  may  best  be 
explained  by  one  of  his  letters. 

"  My  own  school  experience  has  taught  me  the  monstrous  evil  of  a  state 
of  low  principle^prevailing  amongst  those  who  set,the  tone  to  the  rest.  I  can 
neither  theoretically  nor  practically  defend  our  public  school  system,  where 
the  boys  are  left  so  very  much  alone  to  form  a  distinct  society  of  their  own, 
unless  you  assume  that  the  upper  class  shall  be  capable  of  being  in  a  man- 
ner utaiTcu  between  the  masters  and  the  mass  of  the  boys,  that  is,  shall  be  ca- 
pable of  receiving  and  transmitting  to  the  rest,  through  their  example  and 
influence,  right  principles  of  conduct,  instead  of  those  extremely  low  ones 
which  are  natural  to  a  society  of  boys  left  wholly  to  form  their  own  standard 
of  right  and  wrong.  Now,  when  I  get  any  in  this  part  of  the  school  who 
are  not  to  be  influenced — who  have  neither  the  will  nor  the  power  to  influ- 
ence others — not  from  being  intentionally  bad,  but  from  very  low  wit,  and 
extreme  childishness  or  coarseness  of  character — the  evil  is  so  great,  not 
only  negatively  but  positively,  (for  their  low  and  false  views  are  greedily 
caught  up  by  those  below  them,)  that  I  know  not  how  to  proceed,  or  how  to 
hinder  the  school  from  becoming  a  place  of  education  for  evil  rather  than  for 
good,  except  by  getting  rid  of  such  persons.  And  then  comes  the  difficulty, 
that  the  parents  who  see  their  sons  only  at  home — that  is  just,  where  the 
points  of  character,  which  are  so  injurious  here,  are  not  calJed  into  action 
— can  scarcely  be  brought  to  understand  why  they  should  remove  them  ; 
and  having,  as  most  people,  have,  only  the  most  vague  ideas  as  to  the  real 
nature  of  a  public  school,  they  cannot  understand  what  harm  they  are 
receiving  or  doing  to  others,  if  they  do  not  get  into  some  palpable  scrape, 


92  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

which  very  likely  they  never  would  do.  More  puzzling  still  is  it,  when  you 
have  many  boys  of  this  description,  so  that  the  evil  influence  is  really  very 
great,  and  yet  there  is  not  one  of  the.  set  whom  you  would  set  down  as  a 
really  bad  fellow,  if  taken  alone  ;  but  most  of  them  would  really  do  very 
well  if  they  were  not  together  and  in  a  situation  where,  unluckily,  their 
age  and  size  leads  them,  unavoidably,  to  form  the  laws  and  guide  the  opin- 
ion of  their  society :  whereas,  they  are  wholly  unfit  to  lead  others,  and 
are  so  slow  at  receiving  good  influences  themselves,  that  they  want  to  be 
almost  exclusively  with  older  persons,  instead  of  being  principally  with 
younger  ones." 

The  evil  undoubtedly  was  great,  and  the  difficulty,  which  he 
describes  in  the  way  of  its  removal,  tended  to  aggravate  the  evil. 
When  first  he  entered  on  his  post  at  Rugby,  there  was  a  general 
feeling  in  the  country,  that  so  long  as  a  boy  kept  himself  from  of- 
fences sufficiently  enormous  to  justify  expulsion,  he  had  a  kind  of 
right  to  remain  in  a  public  school ;  that  the  worse  and  more  trouble- 
some to  parents  were  their  sons,  the  more  did  a  public  school  seem 
the  precise  remedy  for  them  ;  that  the  great  end  of  a  public  school, 
in  short,  was  to  flog  the  vices  out  of  bad  boys.  Hence  much  in- 
dignation was  excited  when  boys  were  sent  away  for  lesser  offences  : 
an  unfailing  supply  of  vicious  sons  was  secured,  and  scrupulous 
parents  were  naturally  reluctant  to  expose  their  boys  to  the  influ- 
ence of  such  associates. 

His  own  determination  had  been  fixed  long  before  he  came  to 
Rugby,  and  it  was  only  after  ascertaining  that  his  power  in  this 
respect  would  be  absolute,  that  he  consented  to  become  a  candidate 
for  the  post.1  The  retention  of  boys  who  were  clearly  incapable 
of  deriving  good  from  the  system,  or  whose  influence  on  others 
was  decidedly  and  extensively  pernicious,  seemed  to  him  not  a  ne- 
cessary part  of  the  trials  of  school,  but  an  inexcusable  and  intol- 
erable aggravation  of  them.  "  Till  a  man  learns  that  the  first, 
second,  and  third  duty  of  a  schoolmaster  is  to  get  rid  of  unpromis- 
ing subjects,  a  great  public  school,"  he  said,  "  will  never  be  what  it 
might  be,  and  what  it  ought  to  be."  The  remonstrances  which  he 
encountered,  both  on  public  and  private  grounds,  were  vehement 
and  numerous.  But  on  these  terms  alone  had  he  taken  his  office  : 
and  he  solemnly  and  repeatedly  declared,  that  on  no  other  terms 
could  he  hold  it,  or  justify  the  existence  of  the  public  school  system 
in  a  Christian  country. 

The  cases  which  fell  under  this  rule  included  all  shades  of 
character  from  the  hopelessly  bad.  up  to  the  really  good,  who  yet 
from  their  peculiar  circumstances  might  be  receiving  great  injury 
from  the  system  of  a  public  school ;  grave  moral  offences  frequently 
repeated  ;  boys  banded  together  in  sets  to  the  great  harm  of  indi- 
viduals or  of  the  school  at  large ;  overgrown  boys,  whose  age  and 
size  gave  them  influence  over  others,  and  made  them  unfit  subjects 
for  corporal  punishment,  whilst  the  low  place  which,  either  from 
idleness  or  dulness,  they  held  in  the  school,  encouraged  all  the 

1  See  Letter  to  Dr.  Hawkins,  in  1827. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


93 


childish  and  low  habits  to  which  they  were  naturally  tempted.1 
He  would  retain  boys  after  offences  which,  considered  in  themselves 
would  seem  to  many  almost  deserving  of  expulsion  ;  he  would  re- 
quest the  removal  of  others  for  offences  which  to  many  would 
seem  venial.  In  short,  he  was  decided  by  the  ultimate  result  on  the 
whole  character  of  the  individual,  or  on  the  general  state  of  the 
school. 

It  was  on  every  account  essential  to  the  carrying  out  of  his 
principle,  that  he  should  mark  in  every  way  the  broad  distinction 
between  this  kind  of  removal,  and  what  in  the  strict  sense  of  the 
word  used  to  be  called  expulsion.  The  latter  was  intended  by  him 
as  a  punishment  and  lasting  disgrace,  was  inflicted  publicly  and 
with  extreme  solemnity,  was  of  very  rare  occurrence,  and  only  for 
gross  and  overt  offences.  But  he  took  pains  to  show  that  removal, 
such  as  is  here  spoken  of,  whether  temporary  or  final,  was  not 
disgraceful  or  penal,  but  intended  chiefly,  if  not  solely,  for  a  pro- 
tection of  the  boy  himself  or  his  schoolfellows.  Often  it  would  be 
wholly  unknown  who  were  thus  dismissed  or  why  ;  latterly  he  gen- 
erally allowed  such  cases  to  remain  till  the  end  of  the  half-year,  that 
their  removal  might  pass  altogether  unnoticed  ;  the  subjoined  let- 
ters also  to  the  head  of  a  college  and  a  private  tutor,  introducing 
such  boys  to  their  attention,  are  samples  of  the  spirit  in  which  he 
acted  on  these  occasions.2 

'  The  admission  of  very  young  boys,  e.  g.  under  the  age  of  ten,  he  earnestly  depre- 
cated, as  considering  them  incapable  of  profiting  by  the  discipline  of  the  place. 

*  1.  To  the  Head  of  a  college. — "  With  regard  to ,  if  you  had  asked  me  about 

him  half  a  year  ago,  I  should  have  spoken  of  him  in  the  highest  terms  in  point  of  conduct 
and  steady  attention  to  his  work  ;  there  has  been  nothing  in  all  that  has  passed  beyond 
a  great  deal  of  party  and  schoolboy  feeling,  wrong,  as  I  think,  and  exceedingly  mischiev- 
ous to  a  school,  but  from  its  peculiar  character  not  likely  to  recur  at  college  or  in  after 
life,  and  not  reflecting  permanently  on  a  boy's  principles  or  disposition.  I  think  you  will 
have  in a  steady  and  gentlemanly  man,  who  will  read  fairly  and  give  no  disturb- 
ance, and  one  who  would  well  repay  any  interest  taken  in  him  by  his  tutor  to  direct  him 
either  in  his  work  or  conduct.  He  was  one  of  those  wh6  would  do  a  great  deal  better 
at  college  than  at  school ;  and  of  this  sort  there  are  many  ;  as  long  as  they  are  among 
boys,  and  with  no  closer  personal  intercourse  with  older  persons  than  a  public  school 
affords,  they  are  often  wrong-headed  and  troublesome  ;  but  older  society  and  the  habits 
of  more  advanced  life  set  them  to  rights  again." 

2.  .  .  .  "  Their  conduct  till  they  wentaway  was  as  good  as  possible,  and  1  feel 
bound  to  speak  strongly  in  their  favour  with  regard  to  their  prospects  at  college  ;  for  there 
was  more  of  foolishness  than  of  vice  in  the  whole  matter,  and  it  was  their  peculiar  situa- 
tion in  the  school,  and  the  peculiar  danger  of  their  fault  among  us,  that  made  us  wish 

them  to  be  removed. was  very  much  improved  in  his  work,  and  did  some  of  his 

business  very  well:  since  he  has  left  us  he  has  been  with  a  private  tutor,  and  I  shall  be 
disappointed  if  he  has  not  behaved  there  so  as  to  obtain  from  him  a  very  favourable  cha- 
racter." 

3 " was  not  a  bad  fellow  at  all,  but  had  overgrown  school  in 

his  body  before  he  had  outgrown  it  in  wit ;  he  was  therefore  the  hero  of  the  younger  boys 
for  his  strength  and  prowess ;  and  this  sort  of  distinction  was  doing  him  harm,  so  that  I 
advised  his  father  to  take  him  away,  and  to  get  him  entered  at  the  University  as  soon  as 
possible." 

4.  To  a  private  tutor. — "  I  am  glad  that  you  continue  to  like ,  nor  am  I  sur- 
prised at  it,  for  I  always  thought  that  school  brought  out  the  bad  in  his  character,  and 
repressed  the  good.  There  are  some  others  in  the  same  way  whom  you  would  find,  I 
think,  very  satisfactory  pupils,  but  who  are  not  improving  here." 


94  LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

This  system  was  not  pursued  without  difficulty:  the  incon- 
venience attendant  upon  such  removals  was  occasionally  very 
great ;  sometimes  the  character  of  the  boy  may  have  been  mis- 
taken, the  difficulty  of  explaining  the  true  nature  of  the  transac- 
tion to  parents  was  considerable ;  an  exaggerated  notion  was 
entertained  of  the  extent  to  which  this  view  was  carried. 

To  administer  such  a  system  required  higher  qualifications 
in  a  head-master  than  mere  scholarship  or  mere  zeal.  What 
enabled  him  to  do  so  successfully  was,  the  force  of  his  character, 
his  determination  to  carry  out  his  principles  through  a  host  of  par- 
ticular obstacles  ;  his  largeness  of  view,  which  endeavoured  to 
catch  the  distinctive  features  of  every  case ;  the  consciousness 
which  he  felt,  and  made  others  feel,  of  the  uprightness  and  purity 
of  his  intentions.  The  predictions  that  boys  who  failed  at  school 
would  turn  out  well  with  private  tutors,  were  often  acknowledged 
to  be  verified  in  cases  where  the  removal  had  been  most  complain- 
ed of;  the  diminution  of  corporal  punishment  in  the  school  was 
necessarily  much  facilitated  ;  a  salutary  effect  was  produced  on  the 
boys  by  impressing  upon  them,  that  even  slight  offences,  which 
came  under  the  head-master's  eye,  were  swelling  the  sum  of  mis- 
conduct which  might  end  in  removal ;  whilst  many  parents  were 
displeased  by  the  system,  others  were  induced  to  send  ''as  many 
boys,"  he  said,  "  and  more  than  he  sent  away  ;"  lastly,  he  succeed- 
ed in  shaking  the  old  notion  of  the  conditions  under  which  boys 
must  be  'allowed  to  remain  at  school,  and  in  impressing  on  others 
the  standard  of  moral  progress  which  he  endeavoured  himself  to 
enforce. 

The  following  letter  to  one  of  the  assistant-masters  expresses 
his  mode  of  meeting  the  attacks  to  which  he  was  exposed  on  the 
two  subjects  last  mentioned. 

"  I  do  not  choose  to  discuss  the  thickness  of  Praepostors'  sticks,  or  the 
greater  or  less  blackness  of  a  boy's  bruises,  for  the  amusement  of  all  the 
readers  of  the  newspapers  ;  nor  do  I  care  in  the  slightest  degree  about  the 
attacks,  if  the  masters  themselves  treat  them  with  indifference.  If  they  ap- 
pear to  mind  them,  or  to  fear  their  effect  on  the  school,  the  apprehension  in 
this,  as  in  many  other  instances,  will  be  likely  to  verify  itself.  For  my  own 
part,  I  confess  that  I  will  not  condescend  to  justify  the  school  against 
attacks,  when  I  believe  that  it  is  going  on  not  only  not  ill,  but  positively  well. 
Were  it  really  otherwise,  I  think  I  should  be  as  sensitive  as  any  one,  and 
very  soon  give  up  the  concern.  But  these  attacks  are  merely  what  I  bargained 
for,  so  far  as  they  relate  to  my  conduct  in  the  school,  because  they  are  direct- 
ed against  points  on  which  my  '  ideas'  were  fixed  before  I  came  to  Rugby, 
and  are  only  more  fixed  now :  e.  g.  that  the  authority  of  the  Sixth  Form  is 
essential  to  the  good  of  the  school,  and  is  to  be  upheld  through  all  obstacles 
from  within  and  from  without,  and  that  sending  away  boys  is  a  necessary  and 

5.  "  It  is  a  good  thing,  I  have  no  doubt,  that has  left  us  ;  his  is  just  one  of 

those  characters  which  cannot  bear  a  public  school,  and  may  be  saved  and  turned  to  great 
good  by  the  humanities  of  private  tuition." 

"  Ah!"  he  would  say  of  a  case  of  this  kind,  "  if  the  Peninsular  war  were  going  on 
now,  one  would  know  what  to  do  with  him — a  few  years'  hardship  would  bring  a  very 
nice  fellow  out  of  him." 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  95 

regular  part  of  a  good  system,  not  as  a  punishment  to  one,  but  as  a  protection 
to  others.  Undoubtedly  it  would  be  a  better  system  if  there  was  no  evil ; 
but  evil  being  unavoidable  we  are  not  a  jail  to  keep  it  in,  but  a  place  of 
education  where  we  must  cast  it  out,  to  prevent  its  taint  from  spreading. 
Meanwhile  let  us  mind  our  own  work,  and  try  to  perfect  the  execution  of  our 
own  '  ideas,'  and  we  shall  have  enough  to  do,  and  enough  always  to  hinder 
us  from  being  satisfied  with  ourselves  ;  but  when  we  are  attacked  we  have 
some  right  to  answer  with  Scipio,  who,  scorning  to  reply  to  a  charge  of  cor- 
ruption, said,  c  Hoc  die  cum  Hannibale  bene  et  feliciter  pugnavi :' — we  have 
done  enough  good  and  undone  enough  evil,  to  allow  us  to  hold  our  assailants 
cheap." 

II.  The  spirit  in  which  he  entered  on  the  instruction  of  the 
school,  constituting  as  it  did  the  main  business  of  the  place,  may 
perhaps  best  be  understood  from  a  particular  exemplification  of  it 
in  the  circumstances  under  which  he  introduced  a  prayer  before 
the  first  lesson  in  the  Sixth  Form,  over  and  above  the  general 
prayers  read  before  the  whole  school.  On  the  morning  on  which 
he  first  used  it  he  said,  that  he  had  been  much  troubled  to  find 
that  the  change  from  attendance  on  the  death-bed  of  one  of  the 
boys  in  his  house  to  his  school- work  had  been  very  great :  he 
thought  that  there  ought  not  to  be  such  a  contrast,  and  that  it  was 
probably  owing  to  the  school-work  not  being  sufficiently  sanctified 
to  God's  glory ;  that  if  it  was  made  really  a  religious  work,  the 
transition  to  it  from  a  death-bed  would  be  slight :  he  therefore  in- 
tended for  the  future  to  offer  a  prayer  before  the  first  lesson,  that 
the  day's  work  might  be  undertaken  and  carried  on  solely  to  the 
glory  of  God  and  their  improvement, — that  he  might  be  the  better 
enabled  to  do  his  work.' 

Under  this  feeling,  all  the  lessons,  in  his  eyes,  and  not  only 
those  which  were  more  directly  religious,  were  invested  with  a 
moral  character  ;  and  his  desire  to  raise  the  gftieral  standard  of 
knowledge  and  application  in  the  school  was  as  great  as  if  it  had 
been  his  sole  object. 

He  introduced,  with  this  view,  a  variety  of  new  regulations  ; 
contributed  liberally  himself  to  the  foundation  of  prizes  and 
scholarships,  as  incentives  to  study,  and  gave  up  much  of  his 
leisure  to  the  extra  labour  of  new  examinations  for  the  various 
forms,  and  of  a  yearly  examination  for  the  whole  school.  The 
spirit  of  industry  which  his  method  excited  in  his  betler  scholars, 
and  more  or  less  in  the  school  at  large,  was  considerable ;  and 
it  was  often  complained  that  their  minds  and  constitutions  were 
overworked  by  premature  exertion.  Whether  this  was  the  case 
more  at  Rugby  than  in  other  schools,  since  the  greater  exertions 
generally  required  in  all  parts  of  education,  it  is  difficult  to  deter- 
mine. He  himself  would  never  allow  the  truth  of  it,  (hough 
maintaining  that  it  would  be  a  very  great  evil  if  it  were  so.  The 
Greek  union  of  the  aQszrj  yvfxvaarmi]  with  the  aQsr?]  povotxrj,  he  thought 
invaluable  in  education,  and  he  held  that  the  freedom  of  the  sports 
of  public  schools  was  particularly  favourable  to  it :  and  whenever 

1  See  Appendix  A. 


96  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

he  saw  that  boys  were  reading  too  much,  he  always  remonstrated 
with  them,  relaxed  their  work,  and  if  they  were  in  the  upper  part 
of  the  school,  would  invite  them  to  his  house  in  the  half  year  or 
the  holidays  to  refresh  them. 

He  had  a  strong  belief  in  the  general  union  of  moral  and 
intellectual  excellence.  "  I  have  now  had  some  years' experience," 
he  once  said  in  preaching  at  Rugby,  "I  have  known  but  too  many 
of  those  who  in  their  utter  folly  have  said  in  their  heart,  there  was 
no  God ;  but  the  sad  sight — for  assuredly  none  can  be  more  sad — 
of  a  powerful,  an  earnest,  and  an  inquiring  mind  seeking  truth,  yet 
not  finding  it — the  horrible  sight  of  good  deliberately  rejected,  and 
evil  deliberately  chosen — the  grievous  wreck  of  earthly  wisdom 
united  with  spiritual  folly — I  believe  that  it  has  been,  that  it  is, 
that  it  may  be — Scripture  speaks  of  it,  the  experience  of  others  has 
witnessed  it  ;  but  I  thank  God  that  in  my  own  experience  1  have 
never  witnessed  it  yet ;  I  have  still  found  that  folly  and  thought- 
lessness have  gone  to  evil ;  that  thought  and  manliness  have  been 
united  with  faith  and  goodness."  And  in  the  case  of  boys  his  experi- 
ence led  him,  he  said,  "  more  and  more  to  believe  in  this  connexion, 
for  which  divers  reasons  may  be  given.  One,  and  a  very  im- 
portant one,  is,  that  ability  puts  a  boy  in  sympathy  with  his 
teachers  in  the  matter  of  his  work,  and  in  their  delight  in  the 
works  of  great  minds  ;  whereas  a  dull  boy  has  much  more  sym- 
pathy with  the  uneducated,  and  others  to  whom  animal  enjoy- 
ments are  all  in  all."  "I  am  sure,"  he  used  to  say,  "that  in  the 
case  of  boys  the  temptations  of  intellect  are  not  comparable  to  the 
temptations  of  dulness  ;"  and  he  often  dwelt  on  "  the  fruit  which  I 
above  all  things  long  for, — moral  thoughtfulness, — the  inquiring 
love  of  truth  going  along  with  the  devoted  love  of  goodness." 

But  for  mere  cleverness,  whether  in  boys  or  men,  he  had  no 
regard.  "  Mere  intellectual  acuteness,"  he  used  to  say,  in  speaking 
(for  example)  of  lawyers,  "  divested  as  it  is,  in  too  many  cases,  of 
all  that  is  comprehensive  and  great  and  good,  is  to  me  more  revolt- 
ing than  the  most  helpless  imbecility,  seeming  to  be  almost  like 
the  spirit  of  Mephistophiles."  Often  when  seen  in  union  with 
moral  depravity,  he  would  be  inclined  to  deny  its  existence  alto- 
gether; the  generation  of  his  scholars,  to  which  he  Rooked  back 
with  the  greatest  pleasure,  was  not  that  which  contained  most  in- 
stances of  individual  talent^  but  that  which  had  altogether  worked 
steadily  and  industriously.  The  university  honours  which  his 
pupils  obtained  were  very  considerable,  and  at  one  time  unrivalled 
by  any  school  in  England,  and  he  was  unfeignedly  delighted 
whenever  they  occurred.  But  he  never  laid  any  stress  upon  them, 
and  strongly  deprecated  any  system  which  would  encourage  the 
notion  of  their  being  the  chief  end  to  be  answered  by  school  edu- 
cation. He  would  often  dwell  on  the  curious  alternations  of 
cleverness  or  dulness  in  school  generations,  which  seemed  to  baffle 
all  human  calculation  or  exertion.  "  What  we  ought  to  do  is  to 
send  up  boys  who  will  not  be  plucked."     A  mere  plodding  boy  was 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


97 


above  all  others  encouraged  by  him.  At  Laleham  he  had  once  got 
out  of  patience,  and  spoken  sharply  to  a  pupil  of  this  kind,  when 
the  pupil  looked  up  in  his  face  and  said,  "  Why  do  you  speak 
angrily,  sir? — indeed  I  am  doing  the  best  that  I  can."  Years 
afterwards  he  used  to  tell  the  story  to  his  children,  and  said,  "  1 
never  felt  so  much  ashamed  in  my  life — that  look  and  that  speech 
I  have  never  forgotten."  And  though  it  would  of  course  happen 
that  clever  boys,  from  a  greater  sympathy  with  his  understanding, 
would  be  brought  into  closer  intercourse  with  him,  this  did  not 
affect  his  feeling,  not  only  of  respect,  but  of  reverence  to  those  who, 
without  ability,  were  distinguished  for  high  principle  and  industry. 
"  If  there  be  one  thing  on  earth  which  is  truly  admirable,  it  is  to 
see  God's  wisdom  blessing  an  inferiority  of  natural  powers,  where 
they  have  been  honestly,  truly,  and  zealously  cultivated."  In 
speaking  of  a  pupil  of  this  character,  he  once  said,  "  I  would  stand 
to  that  man  hat  in  hand  ;"  and  it  was  his  feeling  after  the  depart- 
ure of  such  an  one  that  drew  from  him  the  most  personal,  perhaps 
the  only  personal  praise,  which  he  ever  bestowed  on  any  boy  in 
his  Sermons.     (See  Sermons,  vol.  hi.  pp.  352,  353.) ' 

1  The  subjoined  letters  will  best  show  the  feeling  with  which  he  regarded  the  acade- 
mical successes  or  failures  of  his  pupils: — 

1.  To  a  pupil  who  had  failed  in  his  examination  at  the  University  : — 
"  I  hardly  know  whether  you  would  like  my  writing  to  you  ;  yet  I  feel 

strongly  disposed  so  far  to  presume  on  the  old  relation  which  existed  between  us,  as  to 
express  my  earnest  hope  that  you  will  not  attach  too  much  importance  to  your  disap- 
pointment, whatever  it  may  have  been,  at  the  recent  examination.  I  believe  that  I  attach 
quite  as  much  value  as  is  reasonable  to  university  distinctions  ;  but  it  would  be  a  grievous 
evil  if  the  good  of  a  man's  reading  for  three  years  were  all  to  depend  on  the  result  of  a 
single  examination,  affected  as  that  result  must  ever  in  some  degree  be  by  causes  inde- 
pendent of  a  man's  intellectual  excellence.  I  am  saying  nothing  but  what  you  know 
quite  well  already  ;  still  the  momentary  feeling  of  disappointment  may  tempt  a  man  to 
do  himself  great  injustice,  and  to  think  that  his  efforts  have  been  attended  by  no  pro- 
portionate fruit.  I  can  only  say,  for  one,  that  as  far  as  the  real  honour  of  Rugby  is  con- 
cerned, it  is  the  effort,  an  hundred  times  more  than  the  issue  of  the  effort,  that  is  in  my 
judgment  a  credit  to  the  school ;  inasmuch  as  it  shows  that  the  men  who  go  from  here  to 
the  University  do  their  duty  there  ;  and  that  is  the  real  -point  which  alone  to  my  mind 
reflects  honour  either  on  individuals  or  on  societies  ;  and  if  such  a  fruit  is  in  any  way  trace- 
able to  the  influence  of  Rugby,  then  I  am  proud  and  thankful  to  have  had  such  a  man  as 
my  pupil.  I  am  almost  afraid  that  you  will  think  me  impertinent  in  writing  to  you  ;  but 
I  must  be  allowed  to  feel  more  than  a  passing  interest  in  those  whom  I  have  known  and 
valued  here  ;  and  in  your  case  this  interest  was  renewed  by  having  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  you  in  Westmoreland  more  lately.  I  should  be  extremely  glad  if  you  can  find  an 
opportunity  of  paying  us  a  visit  ere  long  at  Rugby." 

2.  To  a  pupil  just  before  his  examination  at  Oxford : — 

"  I  have  no  other  object  in  writing  to  you,  than  merely  to  assure  you  of  my  hearty 
interest  about  you  at  this  time,  when  I  suppose  that  the  prospect  of  your  examination  is 
rising  up  closely  before  you.  Yet  I  hope  that-you  know  me  better  than  to  think  that  my 
interest  arises  merely  from  the  credit  which  the  school  may  gain  from  your  success,  or 
that  I  should  be  in  a  manner  personally  disappointed  if  our  men  were  not  to  gain  what 
they  are  trying  for.  On  this  score  I  am  very  hard,  and  I  know  too  well  the  uncertainties 
of  examinations  to  be  much  surprised  at  any  result.  I  am  much  more  anxious,  however, 
that  you  should  not  overwork  yourself,  nor  unnerve  your  mind  for  after  exertion.  And  I 
wish  to  say  that  if  you  would  like  change  of  air  or  scene  for  a  single  day,  I  should  urge 
you  to  come  down  here,  and  if  I  can  be  of  any  use  to  you,  when  here,  in  examining  you, 
that  you  may  not  think  that  you  would  be  utterly  losing  your  time  in  leaving  Oxford,  I 
shall  be  very  glad  to  do  it.  lama  great  believer  in  the  virtues  of  a  journey  for  fifty  miles, 
for  giving  tone  to  the  system  where  it  has  been  overworked." 


93  LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

This  being  his  general  view,  it  remains  to  unfold  his  ideas  of 
school-instruction  in  detail. 

1.  That  classical  studies  should  be  the  basis  of  intellectual 
teaching,  he  maintained  from  the  first.  "  The  study  of  language," 
he  said,  "  seems  to  me  as  if  it  was  given  for  the  very  purpose  of 
forming  the  human  mind  in  youth  ;  and  the  Greek  and  Latin  lan- 
guages, in  themselves  so  perfect,  and  at  the  same  time  freed  from 
the  insuperable  difficulty  which  must  attend  any  attempt  to  teach 
boys  philology  through  the  medium  of  their  own  spoken  language, 
seem  the  very  instruments,  by  which  this  is  to  be  effected."  But  a 
comparison  of  his  earlier  and  later  letters  will  show  how  much  this 
opinion  was  strengthened  in  later  years,  and  how,  in  some  respects, 
he  returned  to  parts  of  the  old  system,  which  on  his  first  arrival  at 
Rugby  he  had  altered  or  discarded.  To  the  use  of  Latin  verse, 
which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  regard  as  "  one  of  the  most  con- 
temptible prettines>es  of  the  understanding,"  "I  am  becoming,"  he 
said,  "  in  my  old  age  more  and  more  a  convert."  Greek  and  Latin 
grammars  in  English,  which  he  introduced  soon  after  he  came,  he 
found  were  attended  with  a  disadvantage,  because  the  rules  which 
in  Latin  fixed  themselves  in  the  boys'  memories,  when  learned  in 
English,  were  forgotten.  The  changes  in  his  views  resulted  on 
the  whole  from  his  increasing  conviction,  that  "  it  was  not  know- 
ledge, but  the  means  of  gaining  knowledge  which  he  had  to  teach  ;" 
as  well  as  by  his  increasing  sense  of  the  value  of  the  ancient  au- 
thors, as  belonging  really  to  a  period  of  modern  civilization  like 
our  own :  the  feeling  that  in  them,  "  with  a  perfect  abstraction  from 
those  particular  names  and  associations,  which  are  for  ever  bias- 
ing our  judgment  in  modern  and  domestic  instances,  the  great 
principles  of  all  political  questions,  whether  civil  or  ecclesiastical, 
are  perfectly  discussed  and  illustrated  with  entire  freedom,  with 
most  attractive  eloquence,  and  with  profoundest  wisdom."  (Serm. 
vol.  iii.  Pref.  p.  xiii.) 

From  time  to  time,  therefore,  as  in  the  Journal  of  Education, 
(vol.  vii.  p.  240,)  where  his  reasons  are  stated  at  length,  he  raised 
his  voice  against  the  popular  outcry,  by  which  classical  instruction 
was  at  that  time  assailed.     And  it  was,  perhaps,  not  without  a 

3.  To  a  pupil  who  had  been  unsuccessful  in  an  examination  for  the  Ireland  schol- 
arship : — 

"  I  am  more  than  satisfied  with  what  you  have  done  in  the  Ireland  ;  as  to  getting 
it,  I  certainly  never  should  have  got  it  myself,  so  I  have  no  right  to  be  surprised  if  my 
pupils  do  not." 

4.  To  a  pupil  who  had  gained  a  first  class  at  Oxford: — 

"  Your  letter  has  given  all  your  friends  here  great  joy,  and  most  heartily  do  I  con- 
gratulate you  upon  it.  Depend  upon  it,  it  is  a  gift  of  God,  not  to  be  gloried  in,  but 
deeply  and  thankfully  to  be  prized,  for  it  may  be  made  to  minister  to  His  glory  and  to  the 
good  of  His  Church,  which  never  more  needed  the  aid  of  the  Spirit  of  wisdom,  as  well  as 
of  the  Spirit  of  love." 

5.  To  another  on  the  same: — 

"  I  must  write  you  in  one  line  my  heartiest  congratulations,  for  I  should  not  like  not 
to  write  on  an  occasion  which  I  verily  believe  is  to  no  one  more  welcome  than  it  is  lo  me. 
You,  I  know,  will  look  onwards  and  upwards — and  will  feel  that  God's  gifts  and  blessings 
bind  us  more  closely  to  His  service." 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  99 

share  in  producing  the  subsequent  reaction  in  its  favour,  that  the 
one  Head-master,  who,  from  his  political  connexions  and  opinions, 
would  have  been  supposed  most  likely  to  yield  to  the  clamour, 
was  the  one  who  made  the  most  deliberate  and  decided  protest 
against  it.' 

2.  But  what  was  true  of  his  union  of  new  with  old  elements  in 
the  moral  government  of  the  school,  applies  no  less  to  its  intellec- 
tual management.  He  was  the  first  Englishman  who  drew  atten- 
tion in  our  public  schools  to  the  historical,  political,  and  philosophi- 
cal value  of  philology  and  of  the  ancient  writers,  as  distinguished 
from  the  mere  verbal  criticism  and  elegant  scholarship  of  the  last 
century.  And  besides  the  general  impulse  which  he  gave  to 
miscellaneous  reading,  both  in  the  regular  examinations  and  by 
encouraging  the  tastes  of  particular  boys  for  geology  or  other  like 
pursuits,  he  incorporated  the  study  of  Modern  History,  Modern 
Languages,  and  Mathematics  into  the  work  of  the  school,  which 
attempt,  as  it  was  the  first  of  its  kind,  so  it  was  at  one  time  the 
chief  topic  of  blame  and  praise  in  his  sys.tem  of  instruction.  The 
reading  of  a  considerable  portion  of  modern  history  was  effected 
without  difficulty ;  but  the  endeavour  to  teach  mathematics  and 
modern  languages,  especially  the  latter,  not  as  an  optional  append- 
age, but  as  a  regular  part  of  the  school  business,  was  beset  with 
obstacles  which  rendered  his  plan  less  successful  than  he  had  an- 
ticipated ;  though  his  wishes,  especially  for  boys  who  were  unable 
to  reap  the  full  advantage  of  classical  studies,  were,  to  a  great  ex- 
tent, answered.1 

1  The  instruction  in  modern  languages  passed  through  various  stages,  of  which  the 
final  result  was  that  the  several  forms  were  taught  by  their  regular  masters,  French  and 
German  in  the  three  higher  forms,  and  French  in  the  forms  below.  How  fully  he  was 
himself  awake  to  the  objections  to  this  plan  will  appear  from  the  subjoined  letter  in  1840  ; 
but  still  he  felt  that  it  yet  remained  to  be  shown  how,  for  a  continuance,  all  the  boys  of 
a  large  public  school  can  be  taught  modern  languages,  except  by  English  masters,  and 
those  the  masters  of  their  respective  classical  forms. 

Extract  from  a  letter  to  the  Earl  of  Denbigh  : — 

"  I  assume  it  certainly,  as  the  foundation  of  all  my  view  of  the  case,  that  boys  at  a 
public  school  never  will  learn  to  speak  or  pronounce  French  well  under  any  circumstances. 
But  to  most  of  our  boys,  to  read  it  will  be  of  far  more  use  than  to  speak  it ;  and  if  they 
learn  it  grammatically  as  a  dead  language,  I  am  sure  that  whenever  they  have  any  occa- 
sion to  speak  it,  as  in  going  abroad,  for  instance,  they  will  be  able  to  do  it  very  rapidly. 
1  think  that  if  we  can  enable  the  boys  to  read  French  with  facility,  and  to  know  the 
grammar  well,  we  shall  do  as  much  as  can  be  done  at  a  public  school,  and  should 
teach  the  boys  something  valuable.  And  in  point  of  fact,  I  have  heard  men,  who 
have  left  Rugby,  speak  with  gratitude  of  what  they  have  learnt  with  us  in  French  and 
German. 

"  It  is  very  true  that  our  general  practice  here,  as  in  other  matters,  does  not  come  up 
to  our  theory  ;  and  I  know  too  well  that  most  of  the  boys  would  pass  a  very  poor  examina- 
tion even  in  French  Grammar.  But  so  it  is  with  their  mathematics  ;  and  so  it  will  be 
with  any  branch  of  knowledge  that  is  taught  but  seldom,  and  is  felt  to  be  quite  subordinate 
to  the  boy's  main  study.  Only  I  am  quite  sure  that  if  the  boy's  regular  masters  fail  in 
this,  a  foreigner,  be  he  who  he  may,  would  fail  much  more. 

"  T  do  not  therefore  see  any  way  out  of  the  difficulties  of  the  question,  and  I  believe 
sincerely  that  our  present  plan  is  the  least  bad,  I  will  not  say  the  best,  that  can  be  adopted  ; 
discipline  is  not  injured,  as  it  is  with  foreign  masters,  and  I  think  that  something  is  taught, 
though  but  little.  With  regard  to  German,  I  can  speak  more  confidently  ;  and  I  am  sure 
that  there  we  do  facilitate  a  boy's  after  study  of  the  language  considerably,  and  enable 


XOO  L1F£   °F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

What  has  been  said,  relates  rather  to  his  system  of  instruction, 
than  to  the  instruction  itself.  His  personal  share  in  the  teaching 
of  the  younger  boys  was  confined  to  the  general  examinations,  in 
which  ne  took  an  active  part,  and  to  two  lessons  which  he  de- 
voted in  every  week  to  the  hearing  in  succession  every  form  in  the 
school.  These  visits  were  too  transient  for  the  boys  to  become 
familiar  with  him ;  but  great  interest  was  always  excited,  and 
though  the  chief  impression  was  of  extreme  fear,  they  were  also 
struck  by  the  way  in  which  his  examinations  elicited  from  them 
whatever  they  knew,  as  well  as  by  the  instruction  which  they 
received  merely  from  hearing  his  questions,  or  from  seeing  the 
effect  produced  upon  him  by  their  answers.  But  the  chief  source 
of  his  intellectual  as  of  his  moral  influence  over  the  school,  was 
through  the  Sixth  Form.  To  the  rest  of  the  boys  he  appeared 
almost  exclusively  as  a  master,  to  them  he  appeared  almost  exclu- 
sively as  an  instructor ;  it  was  in  the  library  tower,  where  he  heard 
their  lessons,  that  his  pupils  became  first  really  acquainted  with 
him,  and  that  his  power  of  teaching,  in  which  he  found  at  once 
his  main  business  and  pleasure,  had  its  full  scope. 

It  has  been  attempted  hitherto  to  represent  his  principles  of 
education  as  distinct  from  himself,  but  in  proportion  as  we  approach 
his  individual  teaching,  this  becomes  impracticable — the  system  is 
lost  in  the  man — the  recollections  of  the  Head-master  of  Rugby  are 
inseparable  from  the  recollections  of  the  personal  guide  and  friend 
of  his  scholars.  They  will  at  once  recall  those  little  traits  which, 
however  minute  in  themselves,  will  to  them  suggest  a  lively  image 
of  his  whole  manner.  They  will  remember  the  glance,  with  which 
he  looked  round  in  the  few  moments  of  silence  before  the  lesson  be- 
gan, and  which  seemed  to  speak  his  sense  of  his  own  position  and 
of  theirs  also,  as  the  heads  of  a  great  school ;  the  attitude  in  which 
he  stood,  turning  over  the  pages  of  Facciolati's  Lexicon  or  Pole's 
Synopsis,  with  his  eye  fixed  upon  the  boy  who  was  pausing  to 
give  an  answer  ;  the  well  known  changes  of  his  voice  and  manner, 
so  faithfully  representing  the  feeling  within.  They  will  recollect 
the  pleased  look  and  the  cheerful  "  Thank  you,"  which  followed 
upon  a  successful  answer  or  translation  ;  the  fall  of  his  countenance 
with  its  deepening  severity,  the  stern  elqyation  of  the  eyebrows, 
the  sudden  "  Sit  down "  which  followed  upon  the  reverse  ;  the 
courtesy  and  almost  deference  to  the  boys,  as  to  his  equals  in  soci- 
ety, so  long  as  there  was  nothing  to  disturb  the  friendliness  of  their 
relation;  the  startling  earnestness  with  which  he  would  check  in 
a  moment  the  slightest  approach  to  levity  or  impertinence ;  the 
confidence,  with  which  he  addressed  them  in  his  half-yearly  ex- 
hortations ;  the  expressions  of  delight  with  which,  when  they  had 
been  doing  well,  he  would  say  that  it  was  a  constant  pleasure  to 
him  to  come  into  the  library. 

His  whole  method  was  founded  on  the  principle  of  awakening 

him  with  much  less  trouble,  to  read  those  many  German  books  which  are  so  essential  to 
his  classical  studies  at  the  university." 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  101 

the  intellect  of  every  individual  boy.  Hence  it  was  his  practice  to 
teach  by  questioning.  As  a  general  rule,  he  never  gave  informa- 
tion, except  as  a  kind  of  reward  for  an  answer,  and  often  withheld 
it  altogether,  or  checked  himself  in  the  very  act  of  uttering  it,  from 
a  sense  that  those  whom  he  was  addressing  had  not  sufficient  inte- 
rest or  sympathy  to  entitle  them  to  receive  it.  His  explanations 
were  as  short  as  possible — enough  to  dispose  of  the  difficulty  and 
no  more  ;  and  his  questions  were  of  a  kind  to  call  the  attention  of 
the  boys  to  the  real  point  of  every  subject,  to  disclose  to  them  the 
exact  boundaries  of  what  they  knew  or  did  not  know,  and  to  culti- 
vate a  habit  not  only  of  collecting  facts,  but  of  expressing  them- 
selves with  facility,  and  of  understanding  the  principles  on  which 
their  facts  rested.  "  You  come  here,"  he  said,  "  not  to  read,  but  to 
learn  how  to  read ;"  and  thus  the  greater  part  of  his  instructions 
were  interwoven  with  the  process  of  their  own  minds  ;  there  was 
a  continual  reference  to  their  thoughts,  an  acknowledgment  that, 
so  far  as  their  information  and  power  of  reasoning  could  lake  them, 
they  ought  to  have  an  opinion  of  their  own.  He  was  evidently 
working  not  for,  but  with  the  form,  as  if  they  were  equally  inte- 
rested with  himself  in  making  out  the  meaning  of  the  passage 
before  them.  His  object  was  to  set  them  right,  not  by  correcting 
them  at  once,  but  either  by  gradually  helping  them  on  to  a  true 
answer,  or  by  making  the  answers  of  the  more  advanced  part  of 
the  form  serve  as  a  medium,  through  which  his  instructions  might 
be  communicated  to  the  less  advanced.  Such  a  system  he  thought 
valuable  alike  to  both  classes  of  boys.  To  those  who  by  natural 
quickness  or  greater  experience  of  his  teaching  were  more  able  to 
follow  his  instructions,  it  confirmed  the  sense  of  the  responsible 
position  which  they  held  in  the  school,  intellectually  as  well  as 
morally.  To  a  boy  less  ready  or  less  accustomed  to  it,  it  gave 
precisely  what  he  conceived  that  such  a  character  required.  "  He 
wants  this,"  to  use  his  mvn  words,  "  and  he  wants  it  daily — not 
only  to  interest  and  excite  him,  but  to  dispel  what  is  very  apt  to 
grow  around  a  lonely  reader  not  constantly  questioned — a  haze  of 
indistinctness  as  to  a  consciousness  of  his  own  knowledge  or  igno- 
rance ;  he  takes  a  vague  impression  for  a  definite  one,  an  imperfect 
notion  for  one  that  is  full  and  complete,  and  in  this  way  he  is  con- 
tinually deceiving  himself." 

Hence,  also,  he  not  only  laid  great  stress  on  original  composi- 
tions, but  endeavoured  so  to  choose  the  subjects  of  exercises  as  to 
oblige  therrt  to  read  and  lead  them  to  think  for  themselves.  He 
dealt  at  once  a  death  blow  to  themes  (as  he  expressed  it)  on  "  Vir- 
tus est  bona  res,"  and  gave  instead  historical  or  geographical  de- 
scriptions, imaginary  speeches  or  letters,  etymological  accounts  of 
words,  or  criticisms  of  books,  or  put  religious  and  moral  subjects  in 
such  a  form  as  awakened  a  new  and  real  interest  in  them  ; '  as,  for 
example,  not  simply  "  carpe  diem,"  or,  "  procrastination  is  the  thief 
of  time  ;"  but,  "  carpere  diem  jubent  Epicurei,  jubet  hoc  idem  Chris- 

1  See  Appendix  B. 


]  02  LIFE    0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

tus."  So  again,  in  selecting  passages  for  translation  from  English 
into  Greek  or  Latin,  instead  of  taking  them  at  random  from  the 
Spectator  or  other  such  works,  he  made  a  point  of  giving  extracts, 
remarkable  in  themselves,  from  such  English  and  foreign  authors 
as  he  most  admired,  so  as  indelibly  to  impress  on  the  minds  of  his 
pupils  some  of  the  most  striking  names  and  passages  in  modern 
literature.  "  Ha,  very  good  !"  was  his  well-known  exclamation  of 
pleasure  when  he  met  with  some  original  thought ;  "  is  that  en- 
tirely your  own,  or  do  you  remember  any  thing  in  your  reading 
that  suggested  it  to  you?"  Style,  knowledge,  correctness  or  incor- 
rectness of  statement  or  expression,  he  always  disregarded  in  com- 
parison with  indication  or  promise  of  real  thought.  "  I  call  that 
the  best  theme,"  he  said,  "which  shows  that  the  boy  has  read  and 
thought  for  himself;  that  the  next  best,  which  shows  that  he  has 
read  several  books,  and  digested  what  he  has  read ;  and  that  the 
worst,  which  shows  that  he  has  followed  but  one  book,  and  fol- 
lowed that  without  reflection." 

The  interest  in  their  work  which  this  method  excited  in  the 
boys  was  considerably  enhanced  by  the  respect  which,  even  with- 
out regard  to  his  general  character,  was  inspired  by  the  qualities 
brought  out  prominently  in  the  ordinary  course  of  lessons.  They 
were  conscious  of  (what  was  indeed  implied  in  his  method  itself) 
the  absence  of  display,  which  made  it  clear  that  what  he  said  was 
to  instruct  them,  not  to  exhibit  his  own  powers  ;  they  could  not  but 
be  struck  by  his  never  concealing  difficulties  and  always  confessing 
ignorance  ;  acknowledging  mistakes  in  his  edition  of  Thucydides, 
and  on  Latin  verses',  mathematics,  or  foreign  languages,  appealing 
for  help  or  information  to  boys  whom  he  thought  better  qualified 
than  himself  to  give  it.  Even  as  an  example,  it  was  not  without  its 
use,  to  witness  daily  the  power  of  combination  and  concentration  on 
his  favourite  subjects  which  had  marked  him  even  from  a  boy  ;  and 
which  especially  appeared  in  his  illustrations  of  ancient  by  modern, 
and  modern  by  ancient  history.  The  wide  discursiveness  with 
which  he  brought  the  several  parts  of  their  work  to  bear  on  each 
other ;  the  readiness  with  which  he  referred  them  to  the  sources 
and  authorities  of  information,  when  himself  ignorant  of  it ;  the 
eagerness  with  which  he  tracked  them  out  when  unknown — taught 
them  how  wide  the  field  of  knowledge  really  was.  In  poetry  it 
was  almost  impossible  not  to  catch  something  of  the  delight  and 
almost  fervour  with  which,  as  he  came  to  any  striking  passage,  he 
would  hang  over  it,  reading  it  over  and  over  again,  and  dwelling 
upon  it  for  the  mere  pleasure  which  every  word  seemed  to  give 
him.  In  history  or  philosophy,  events,  sayings,  and  authors  would, 
from  the  mere  fact  that  he  had  quoted  them,  become  fixed  in  the 
memory  of  his  pupils,  and  give  birth  to  thoughts  and  inquiries  long 
afterwards,  which,  had  they  been  derived  through  another  medium, 
would  have  been  forgotten  or  remained  unfruitful.  The  very 
scantiness  with  which  he  occasionally  dealt  out  his  knowledge, 
when  not  satisfied  that  the   boys   could  enter  into  it,    whilst  it 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


103 


often  provoked  a  half-angry  feeling  of  disappointment  in  those  who 
eagerly  treasured  up  all  that  he  uttered,  left  an  impression  that  the 
source  from  which  they  drew  was  unexhausted  and  unfathomed, 
and  to  all  that  he  did  say  gave  a  double  value. 

Intellectually,  as  well  as  morally,  he  felt  that  the  teacher  ought 
himself  to  be  perpetually  learning,  and  so  constantly  above  the  level 
of  his  scholars.  "  I  am  sure,"  he  said,  speaking  of  his  pupils  at 
Laleham,  "  that  I  do  not  judge  of  them  or  expect  of  them,  as  I  should, 
if  I  were  not  taking  pains  to  improve  my  own  mind."  For  this 
reason,  he  maintained  that  no  schoolmaster  ought  to  remain  at  his 
post  much  more  than  fourteen  or  fifteen  years,  lest,  by  that  time,  he 
should  have  fallen  behind  the  scholarship  of  the  age  ;  and  by  his 
own  reading  and  literary  works  he  endeavoured  constantly  to  act 
upon  this  principle  himself.  "  For  nineteen  out  of  twenty  boys,"  he 
said  once  to  Archbishop  Whately,  in  speaking  of  the  importance 
not  only  of  information,  but  real  ability  in  assistant-masters,  (and 
his  remark  of  course  applied  still  more  to  the  station  which  he  oc- 
cupied himself,)  "  ordinary  men  may  be  quite  sufficient,  but  the 
twentieth,  the  boy  of  real  talents,  who  is  more  important  than  the 
others,  is  liable  even  to  suffer  injury  from  not  being  early  placed 
under  the  training  of  one  whom  he  can,  on  close  inspection,  look 
up  to  as  his  superior  in  something  besides  mere  knowledge.  The 
dangers,"  he  observed,  "  were  of  various  kinds.  One  boy  may  ac- 
quire a  contempt  for  the  information  itself,  which  he  sees  possessed 
by  a  man  whom  he  feels  nevertheless  to  be  far  below  him.  Another 
will  fancy  himself  as  much  above  nearly  all  the  world  as  he  feels 
he  is  above  his  own  tutor ;  and  will  become  self-sufficient  and 
scornful.  A  third  will  believe  it  to  be  his  duty,  as  a  point  of  hu- 
mility, to  bring  himself  down  intellectually  to  a  level  with  one 
whom  he  feels  bound  to  reverence,  and  thus  there  have  been  in- 
stances, where  the  veneration  of  a  young  man  of  ability  for  a 
teacher  of  small  powers  has  been  like  a  millstone  round  the  neck  of 
an  eagle." 

His  practical  talent  as  a  scholar  consisted  in  his  insight  into  the 
general  structure  of  sentences  and  the  general  principles  of  language, 
and  in  his  determination  to  discard  all  those  unmeaning  phrases  and 
forms  of  expression,  by  which  so  many  writers  of  the  last  genera- 
tion, and  boys  of  all  generations,  endeavour  to  conceal  their  igno- 
rance. In  Greek  and  Latin  composition  his  exceeding  indifference 
to  mere  excellence  of  style,  when  unattended  by  any  thing  better, 
made  it  difficult  for  him  to  bestow  that  praise  which  was  necessary 
to  its  due  encouragement  as  a  part  of  the  school  work,  and  he  never 
was  able  to  overcome  the  deficiency,  which  he  always  felt  in  com- 
posing or  correcting  verse  exercises,  even  after  his  increased  con- 
viction of  their  use  as  a  mental  discipline.  But  to  prose  composition 
in  both  languages  he  had  from  the  first  attached  considerable  im- 
portance, not  only  as  the  best  means  of  acquiring  a  sound  knowledge 
of  the  ancient  authors,  but  of  attaining  a  mastery  over  the  Fmglish 
language  also,  by  the  readiness  and  accuracy  of  expression  which 


104  LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

it  imparted.  He  retained  to  himself  that  happy  facility  for  imitating 
the  style  of  the  Greek  historians  and  philosophers,  for  which  he 
was  remarkable  in  youth,  whilst  his  Latin  prose  was  peculiar  for 
combining  the  force  of  common  Latinity  with  the  vigour  and  sim- 
plicity of  his  own  style — perfectly  correct  and  idiomatic,  yet  not  the 
language  of  Cicero  or  Livy,  but  of  himself. 

In  the  common  lessons,  his  scholarship  was  chiefly  displayed 
in  his  power  of  extempore  translation  into  English.  This  he  had 
possessed  in  a  remarkable  degree  from  the  time  that  he  was  a  boy 
at  Winchester,  where  the  practice  of  reading  the  whole  passage 
from  Greek  or  Latin  into  good  English,  without  construing  each 
particular  sentence  word  by  word,  had  been  much  encouraged  by 
Dr.  Gabell,  and  in  his  youthful  vacations  during  his  Oxford  course 
he  used  to  enliven  the  sick-bed  of  his  sister  Susannah  by  the 
readiness  with  which  in  the  evenings  he  would  sit  by  her 
side,  and  translate  book  after  book  of  the  history  of  Herodotus.  So 
essential  did  he  consider  this  method  to  a  sound  study  of  the  clas- 
sics, that  he  published  an  elaborate  defence  of  it  in  the  Quarterly 
Journal  of  Education  ;  and,  when  delivering  his  Modern  History 
lectures  at  Oxford,  where  he  much  lamented  the  prevalence  of  the 
opposite  system,  he  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  protesting 
against  it,  with  no  other  excuse  for  introducing  the  subject,  than 
the  mention  of  the  Latin  style  of  the  middle  age  historians.  In 
itself,  he  looked  upon  it  as  the  only  means  of  really  entering  into 
the  spirit  of  the  ancient  authors  ;  and,  requiring  as  he  did  besides, 
that  the  translation  should  be  made  into  idiomatic  English,  and  if 
possible,  into  that  style  of  English  which  most  corresponded  to  the 
period  or  the  subject  of  the  Greek  or  Latin  writer  in  question,  he 
considered  it  further  as  an  excellent  exercise  in  the  principles  of 
taste  and  in  the  knowledge  and  use  of  the  English  language,  no 
less  than  of  those  of  Greece  and  Rome.  No  one  must  suppose  that 
these  translations  in  the  least  resembled  the  paraphrases  in  his 
notes  to  Thucydides,  which  are  avowedly  not  translations,  but  ex- 
planations ;  he  was  constantly  on  the  watch  for  any  inadequacy 
or  redundancy  of  expression — the  version  was  to  represent,  and  no 
more  than  represent,  the  exact  words  of  the  original ;  and  those 
who,  either  as  his  colleagues  or  his  pupilsrwere  present  at  his  les- 
sons, well  know  the  accuracy  with  which  every  shade  of  meaning 
would  be  reproduced  in  a  different  shape,  and  the  rapidity  with 
which  he  would  pounce  on  any  mistake  of  grammar  or  construc- 
tion, however  dexterously  concealed  in  the  folds  of  a  free  trans- 
lation. 

In  the  subject  of  the  lessons  it  was  not  only  the  language,  but 
the  author  and  the  age  which  rose  before  him  ;  it  was  not  merely 
a  lesson  to  be  got  through  and  explained,  but  a  work  which  was  to 
be  understood,  to  be  condemned  or  to  be  admired.  It  was  an  old 
opinion  of  his,  which,  though  much  modified  was  never  altogether 
abandoned,  that  the  mass  of  boys  had  not  a  sufficient  appreciation 
of  poetry,  to  make  it  worth  while  for  them  to  read  so  much  of  the 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  JQ5 

ancient  poets,  in  proportion  to  prose  writers,  as  was  usual  when  he 
came  to  Rugby.  But  for  some  of  them  he  had  besides  a  personal  dis- 
taste. The  Greek  tragedians,  though  reading  them  constantly,  and 
portions  of  them  with  the  liveliest  admiration,  he  thought  on  the 
whole  greatly  overrated  ;  and  still  more,  the  second-rate  Latin  poets, 
but  whom  he  seldom  used ;  and  some,  such  asTibullusandPropertius, 
never.  <:  I  do  really  think,"  he  said,  speaking  of  these  last  as  late  as 
1842,  "that  any  examiners  incur  a  serious  responsibility  who  require 
or  encourage  the  reading  of  these  books  for  scholarships  ;  of  all  use- 
less reading,  surely  the  reading  of  indifferent  poets  is  most  useless." 
And  to  some  of  them  he  had  a  yet  deeper  feeling  of  aversion.  It 
was  not  till  1835  that  he  himself  read  the  plays  of  Aristophanes, 
and  though  he  was  then  much  struck  with  the  "  Clouds,"  and  ulti- 
mately introduced  the  partial  use  of  his  Comedies  in  the  school, 
yet  his  strong  moral  disapprobation  always  interfered  with  his  sense 
of  the  genius  both  of  that  poet  and  Juvenal. 

But  of  the  classical  lessons  generally  his  enjoyment  was  com- 
plete. When  asked  once  whether  he  did  not  find  the  repetition  of 
the  same  lessons  irksome  to  him,  "  No,"  he  said,  "  there  is  a  con- 
stant freshness  in  them  ;  I  find  something  new  in  them  every  time 
that  I  go  over  them."  The  best  proof  of  the  pleasure  which  he 
took  in  them  is  the  distinct  impression  which  his  scholars  retained 
of  the  feeling,  often  rather  implied  than  expressed,  with  which  he 
entered  into  the  several  works;  the  enthusiasm  with  which,  both 
in  the  public  and  private  orations  of  Demosthenes,  he  would  con- 
template piece  by  piece  "the  luminous  clearness"  of  the  sentences  ; 
the  affectionate  familiarity  which  he  used  to  show  towards  Thucy- 
dides,  knowing  as  he  did  the  substance  of  every  single  chapter  by 
itself ;  the  revival  of  youthful  interest  with  which  he  would  recur 
to  portions  of  the  works  of  Aristotle  ;  the  keen  sense  of  a  new 
world  opening  before  him,  with  which  in  later  years,  with  ever- 
increasing  pleasure,  he  entered  into  the  works  of  Plato  ; — above  all, 
his  childlike  enjoyment  of  Herodotus,  and  that  "  fountain  of  beauty 
and  delight,  which  no  man,"  he  said,  "  can  ever  drain  dry,"  the 
poetry  of  Homer.  The  simple  language  of  that  early  age  was  ex- 
actly what  he  was  most  able  to  reproduce  in  his  own  simple  and 
touching  translations;  and  his  eyes  would  fill  with  tears,  when  he 
came  to  the  story  which  told  how  Cleobis  and  Bito,  as  a  reward 
for. their  filial  piety,  lay  down  in  the  temple,  and  fell  asleep  and 
died. 

To  his  pupils,  perhaps,  of  ordinary  lessons,  the  most  attractive 
were  the  weekly  ones  on  Modern  History.  He  had  always  a  dif- 
ficulty in  finding  any  work  which  he  could1  use  with  satisfaction 
as  a  text  book.  "  Gibbon,  which  in  many  respects  would  answer 
the  purpose  so  well,  I  dare  not  use."  Accordingly,  the. work, 
whatever  it  might  be,  was  made  the  groundwork  of  his  own  ob- 
servations, and  of  other  reading  from  such  books  as  the  school 
library  contained.  Russell's  Modern  Europe,  for  example,  which 
he  estimated  very  low,  though  perhaps  from  his  own  early  acquaint- 

8 


106  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

ance  with  it  at  Winchester,  with  less  dislike  than  might  have  been 
expected,  served  this  purpose  for  several  years.  On  a  chapter  of 
this  he  would  engraft,  or  cause  the  boys  to  engraft,  additional  infor- 
mation from  Hallam,  Guizot,  or  any  other  historian  who  happened 
to  treat  of  the  same  period,  whilst  he  himself,  with  that  familiar 
interest  which  belonged  to  his  favourite  study  of  history  and  of 
geography,  which  he  always  maintained  could  only  be  taught  in 
connexion  with  it,  would  by  his  searching  and  significant  ques- 
tions gather  the  thoughts  of  his  scholars  round  the  peculiar  cha- 
racteristics of  the  age  or  the  country  on  which  he  wished  to  fix 
their  attention.  Thus,  for  example,  in  the  Seven  Years'  War,  he 
would  illustrate  the  general  connexion  of  military  history  with 
geography,  by  the  simple  instance  of  the  order  of  Hannibal's  suc- 
cessive victories ;  and  then,  chalking  roughly  on  a  board  the  chief 
points  in  the  physical  conformation  of  Germany,  apply  the  same 
principle  to  the  more  complicated  campaigns  of  Frederick  the 
Great.  Or  again,  in  a  more  general  examination,  he  would  ask  for 
the  chief  events  which  occurred,  for  instance,  in  the  year  15  of  two 
or  three  successive  centuries,  and  by  making  the  boys  contrast  or  • 
compare  them  together,  bring  before  their  minds  the  differences 
and  resemblances  in  the  state  of  Europe  in  each  of  the  periods  in 
question. 

Before  entering  on  his  instructions  in  theology,  which  both  for 
himself  and  his  scholars  had  most  peculiar  interest,  it  is  right  to 
notice  the  religious  character  which  more  or  less  pervaded  the  rest 
of  the  lessons.  When  his  pupils  heard  him  in  preaching  recom- 
mend them  "  to  note  in  any  common  work  that  they  read,  such 
judgments  of  men  and  things,  and  such  a  tone  in  speaking  of  them 
as  are  manifestly  at  variance  with  the  spirit  of  Christ,"  (Serm.  vol. 
iii.  p.  116,)  or  when  they  heard  him  ask  "  whether  the  Christian 
.ever  feels  more  keenly  awake  to  the  purity  of  the  spirit  of  the 
Gospel,  than  when  he  reads  the  history  of  crimes  related  with  no 
true  sense  of  their  evil,"  (Serm.  vol.  ii.  p.  223,)  instances  would  im- 
mediately occur  to  them  from  his  own  practice,  to  prove  how  truly 
he  felt  what  he  said.  No  direct  instruction  could  leave  on  their 
minds  a  livelier  image  of  his  disgust  at  moral  evil,  than  the  black 
cloud  of  indignation  which  passed  over  his  face  when  speaking  of 
the  crimes  of  Napoleon,  or  of  Caesar,  and^the  dead  pause  which 
followed,  as  if  the  acts  had  just  been  committed  in  his  very  pre- 
sence. No  expression  of  his  reverence  for  a  high  standard  of 
Christian  excellence  could  have  been  more  striking  than  the  almost 
involuntary  expressions  of  admiration  which  broke  from  him  when- 
ever mention  was  made  of  St.  Louis  of  France.  No  general  teach- 
ing of  the  providential  government  of  the  world  could  have  left  a 
deeper  impression,  than  the  casual  allusions  to  it,  which  occurred 
as  they  came  to  any  of  the  critical  moments  in  the  history  of  Greece 
and  Rome.  No  more  forcible  contrast  could  have  been  drawn  be- 
tween the  value  of  Christianity  and  of  heathenism,  than  the  manner 
with  which,  for  example,  after  reading  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  les- 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


107 


son  one  of  the  Scripture  descriptions  of  the  Gentile  world,  "  Now," 
he  said,  as  he  opened  the  Satires  of  Horace,  "  we  shall  see  what  it 
was." 

Still  it  was  in  the  Scripture1  lessons  that  this  found  most  scope, 
In  the  lower  forms  it  was  rather  that  more  prominence  was  given 
to  them,  and  that  they  were  placed  under  better  regulations  than 
that  they  were  increased  in  amount.  In  the  Sixth  Form,  besides 
the  lectures  on  Sunday,  he  introduced  two  lectures  on  the  Old  or 
New  Testament  in  the  course  of  the  week,  so  that  a  boy  who 
remained  there  three  years  would  often  have  read  through  a  great 
part  of  the  New  Testament,  much  of  the  Old  Testament,  and 
especially  of  the  Psalms  in  the  Septuagint  version,  and  also  com- 
mitted much  of  them  to  memory ;  whilst  at  times  he  would  deliver 
lectures  on  the  history  of  the  early  Church,  or  of  the  English  Re- 
formation. In  these  lessons  on  the  Scriptures  he  would  insist 
much  on  the  importance  of  familiarity  with  the  very  words  of  the 
sacred  writers,  and  of  the  exact  place  where  passages  occurred  ;  on 
a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  different  parts  of  the  story  con- 
tained in  the  several  Gospels,  that  they  might  be  referred  to  at 
once ;  on  the  knowledge  of  the  times  when,  and  the  persons  to 
whom,  the  Epistles  were  written.  In  translating  the  New  Testa- 
ment, while  he  encouraged  his  pupils  to  take  the  language  of  the 
authorized  version  as  much  as  possible,  he  was  very  particular  in 
not  allowing  them  to  use' words  which  fail  to  convey  the  meaning 
of  the  original,  or  which  by  frequent  use  have  lost  all  definite 
meaning  of  their  own, — such  as  "  edification,"  or  "  the  Gospel." 
Whatever  dogmatical  instruction  he  gave,  was  conveyed  almost 
entirely  in  a  practical  or  exegetical  shape  ;  and  it  was  very  rarely 
indeed  that  he  made  any  allusion  to  existing  parties  or  controver- 
sies within  the  Church  of  England.  His  own  peculiar  views, 
which  need  not  be  noticed  in  this  place,  transpired  more  or  less 
throughout ;  but  the  great  proportion  of  his  interpretations  were 
such  as  most  of  his  pupils,  of  whatever  opinions,  eagerly  collected 
and  preserved  for  their  own  use  in  after  life. 

But  more  important  than  any  details  was  the  union  of  rever- 
ence and  reality  in  his  whole  manner  of  treating  the  Scriptures, 
which  so  distinguished  these  lessons  from  such  as  may  in  them- 
selves almost  as  little  deserve  the  name  of  religious  instruction  as 
many  lessons  commonly  called  secular.  The  same  searching  ques- 
tions, the  same  vividness  which  marked  his  historical  lessons, — the 
same  anxiety  to  bring  all  that  he  said  home  to  their  own  feelings, 
which  made  him,  in  preparing  them  for  confirmation,  endeavour 
to  make  them  say,  "  Christ  died  for  me,"  instead  of  the  general 
phrase,  "  Christ  died  for  us," — must  often,  when  applied  to  the  natu- 
rel  vagueness  of  boys'  notions  on  religious  subjects,  have  dispelled 
it  for  ever.  "  He  appeared  to  me,"  writes  a  pupil,  whose  intercourse 
with  him  never  extended  beyond  these  lessons,  "  to  be  remarkable 

1  For  his  own  feeling  about  them,  see  Sermons,  vol.  iv.  pp.  317,  321. 


108  L1FE   0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

ibr  his  habit  of  realizing  every  thing  that  we  are  told  in  Scripture. 
You  know  how  frequently  we  can  ourselves,  and  how  constantly 
we  hear  others  go  prosing  on  in  a  sort  of  religious  cant  or  slang, 
which  is  as  easy  to  learn  as  any  other  technical  jargon,  without 
seeing  as  it  were  by  that  faculty  which  all  possess,  of  picturing  to 
the  mind,  and  acting  as  if  we  really  saw  things  unseen  belonging 
to  another  world.  Now  he  seemed  to  have  the  freshest  view  of 
our  Lord's  life  and  death  that  I  ever  knew  a  man  to  possess.  His 
rich  mind  filled  up  the  naked  outline  of  the  Gospel  history  ; — it 
was  to  him  the  most  interesting  fact  that  has  ever  happened, — as 
real,  as  exciting  (if  I  may  use  the  expression)  as  any  recent  event 
in  modern  history  of  which  the  actual  effects  are  visible."  And  all 
his  comments,  on  whatever  view  of  inspiration  they  were  given, 
were  always  made  in  a  tone  and  manner  that  left  an  impression 
that  from  the  book  which  lay  before  him  he  was  really  seeking  to 
draw  his  rule  of  life  ;  and,  that  whilst  he  examined  it  in  earnest  to 
find  what  its  meaning  was,  when  he  had  found  it  he  intended  to 
abide  by  it. 

The  effect  of  these  instructions  was  naturally  more  permanent 
(speaking  merely  in  an  intellectual  point  of  view)  than  the  lessons 
themselves,  and  it  was  a  frequent  topic  of  censure  that  his  pupils 
were  led  to  take  up  his  opinions  before  their  minds  were  duly  pre- 
pared for  them.  What  was  true  of  his  method  and  intention  in 
the  simplest  matters  of  instruction,  was  true  of  it  as  applied  to  the 
highest  matters.  Undoubtedly  it  was  his  belief  that  the  minds  of 
young  men  ought  to  be  awakened  to  the  greatness  of  things  around 
them ;  and  it  was  his  earnest  endeavour  to  give  them  what  he 
thought  the  best  means  of  attaining  a  firm  hold  upon  truth.  But 
it  was  always  his  wish  that  his  pupils  should  form  their  opinions 
for  themselves,  and  not  take  them  on  trust  from  him.  To  his  par- 
ticular political  principles  he  carefully  avoided  allusion,  and  it  was 
rarely  that  his  subjects  for  school  compositions  touched  on  any 
topics  that  could  have  involved,  even  remotely,  the  disputed  points 
of  party  politics.  In  theological  matters,  partly  from  the  nature  of 
the  case,  partly  from  the  peculiar  aspect  under  which  for  the  last 
six  years  of  his  life  he  regarded  the  Oxford  school,  he  both  expressed 
his  thoughts  more  openly,  and  was  more  anxious  to  impress  them 
upon  his  pupils  ;  but  this  was  almost  entirely  in  the  comparatively 
few  sermons  preached  on  what  could  be  called  controversial  topics. 
In  his  intercourse  indeed  with  his  pupils  after  they  had  left  the 
school,  he  naturally  spoke  with  greater  freedom  on  political  or  the- 
ological subjects,  yet  it  was  usually  when  invited  by  them,  and, 
though  he  often  deeply  lamented  their  adoption  of  what  he  held  to 
be  erroneous  views,  he  much  disliked  a  merely  unmeaning  echo  of 
his  own  opinions.  "  It  would  be  a  great  mistake,"  he  said,  "  if  I 
were  to  try  to  make  myself  here  into  a  Pope." 

It  was,  however,  an  almost  inevitable  consequence  of  coming 
into  contact  with  his  teaching,  and  with  the  new  world  which  it 
opened,  that  his  pupils  would  often,  on  their  very  entrance  into 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


109 


life,  have  acquired  a  familiarity  and  encountered  a  conflict  with 
some  of  the  most  harassing  questions  of  morals  and  religion.  It 
would  also  often  happen,  that  the  increasing  reverence  which  they 
felt  for  him,  would  not  only  incline  them  to  receive  with  implicit 
trust  all  that  he  said  in  the  lessons  or  in  the  pulpit,  but  also  to 
include  in  their  admiration  of  the  man,  all  that  they  could  gather 
of  his  general  views  either  from  report  or  from  his  published  works  ; 
whilst  they  would  naturally  look  with  distrust  on  the  opposite  no- 
tions in  religion  and  politics  brought  before  them,  as  would  often  be 
the  case,  in  close  connexion  with  vehement  attacks  on  him.  which 
in  most  cases  they  could  hardly  help  regarding  as  unbounded  or 
unfair.  Still  the  greater  part  of  his  pupils,  while  at  school,  were, 
after  the  manner  of  English  boys,  altogether  unaffected  by  his 
political  opinions  ;  and  of  those  who  most  revered  him,  none  in 
after  life  could  be  found  who  followed  his  views  implicitly,  even  on 
the  subjects  on  which  they  were  most  disposed  to  listen  to  him. 
But  though  no  particular  school  of  opinion  grew  up  amongst  them, 
the  end  of  his  teaching  would  be  answered  far  more  truly,  (and  it 
may  suggest  to  those  who  know  ancient  history,  similar  results  of 
similar  methods  in  the  hands  of  other  eminent  teachers,)  if  his  scho- 
lars learned  to  form  an  independent  judgment  for  themselves,  and  to 
carry  out  their  opinions  to  their  legitimate  consequences, — to  appre- 
ciate moral  agreement  amidst  much  intellectual  difference,  not  only 
in  each  other  or  in  him,  but  in  the  world  at  large ; — and  to  adopt 
many,  if  not  all  of  his  principles,  whilst  differing  widely  in  their 
application  of  them  to  existing  persons  and  circumstances. 

III.  If  there  is  any  one  place  at  Rugby  more  than  another 
which  was  especially  the  scene  of  Dr.  Arnold's  labours,  both  as  a 
teacher  and  as  a  master,  it  is  the  School-chapel.  Even  its  outward 
forms  from  "  the  very  cross  at  the  top  of  the  building."1  on  which 
he  loved  to  dwell  as  a  visible  symbol  of  the  Christian  end  of  their 
education,  to  the  vaults  which  he  caused  to  be  opened  underneath 
for  those  who  died  in  the  school,  must  always  be  associated  with 
his  name.  "  I  envy  Winchester  its  antiquity,"  he  said,  "  and  am 
therefore  anxious  to  do  all  that  can  be  done  to  give  us  something 
of  a  venerable  outside,  if  we  have  not  the  nobleness  of  old  associa- 
tions to  help  us."  The  five  painted  windows  in  the  chapel  were 
put  up  in  great  part  at  his  expense,  altogether  at  his  instigation. 
The  subject  of  the  first  of  these,  the  great  east  window,  he  de- 
lighted to  regard  as  "  strikingly  appropriate  to  a  place  of  educa- 
tion," being  "  the  Wise  Men's  Offering,"  and  the  first  time  after  its 
erection  that  the  chapter  describing  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi  was 
read  in  the  church  service,  he  took  occasion  to  preach  upon  it  one 
of  his  most  remarkable  sermons,  that  of  "  Christian  Professions — 
Offering  Christ  our  best."  (Serm.  vol.  iii.  p.  112.)  And  as  this  is 
connected  with  the  energy  and  vigour  of  his  life,  so  the  subject  of 
the  last,  which  he  chose  himself  a  short  time  before  his  death,  is 

1  MS.  Sermon. 


HO  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

the  confession  of  St.  Thomas,  on  which  he  dwelt  with  deep  solem- 
nity in  his  last  hours,  as  in  his  life  he  had  dwelt  upon  it  as  the 
great  consolation  of  doubting  but  faithful  hearts,  and  as  the  great 
attestation  of  what  was  to  him  the  central  truth  of  Christianity, 
our  Lord's  divinity.  Lastly,  the  monuments  of  those  who  died  in 
the  school  during  his  government,  and  whose  graves  were  the  first 
ever  made  in  the  chapel  ;  above  all,  his  own,  the  monument  and 
grave  of  the  only  head-master  of  Rugby  who  is  buried  within  its 
walls,  gave  a  melancholy  interest  to  the  words  with  which  he 
closed  a  sermon  preached  on  the  Founder's  day,  in  1833,  whilst  as 
yet  the  recently  opened  vaults  had  received  no  dead  within  them  : 

"  This  roof  under  which  we  are  now  assembled,  will  hold,  it  is  probable, 
our  children  and  our  children's  children ;  may  they  be  enabled  to  think,  as 
they  shall  kneel  perhaps  over  the  bones  of  some  of  us  now  here  assembled, 
that  they  are  praying  where  their  fathers  prayed  ;  and  let  them  not,  if  they 
mock  in  their  day  the  means  of  grace  here  offered  to  them,  encourage  them- 
selves with  the  thought  that  the  place  had  long  ago  been  profaned  with 
equal  guilt;  that  they  are  but  infected  with  the  spirit  of  our  ungodliness."1 

But  of  him  especially  it  need  hardly  be  said,  that  his  chief  in- 
terest in  that  place  lay  in  the  three  hundred  boys  who,  Sunday 
after  Sunday,  were  collected,  morning  and  afternoon,  within  its 
walls.  "  The  veriest  stranger,"  he  said,  "  who  ever  attends  divine 
service  in  this  chapel,  does  well  to  feel  something  more  than  com- 
mon interest  in  the  sight  of  the  congregation  here  assembled.  But 
if  the  sight  so  interests  a  mere  stranger,  what  should  it  be  to  our- 
selves, both  to  you  and  to  me  ?"  (Serm.  vol.  v.  p.  403.)  So  he 
spoke  within  a  month  of  his  death,  and  to  him,  certainly,  the  in- 
terest was  increased  rather  than  lessened  by  its  familiarity.  There 
was  the  fixed  expression  of  countenance,  the  earnest  attention 
with  which,  after  the  service  was  over,  he  sat  in  his  place  looking 
at  the  boys  as  they  filed  out  one  by  one,  in  the  orderly  and  silent 
arrangement  which  succeeded,  in  the  latter  part  of  his  stay,  to  the 
public  calling  over  of  their  names  in  the  chapel.  There  was  the 
complete  image  of  his  union  of  dignity  and  simplicity,  of  man- 
liness and  devotion,  as  he  performed  the  chapel  service,  especially 
when  at  the  communion  table  he  would  read  or  rather  repeat 
almost  by  heart  the  Gospel  or.  Epistle  of  the  day,  with  the  impres- 
siveness  of  one  who  entered  into  it  equally  with  his  whole  spirit 
and  also  with  his  whole  understanding.  There  was  the  visible 
animation  with  which,  by  force  of  long  association,  he  joined  in 
the  musical  parts  of  the  service,  to  which  he  was  by  nature  whol- 
ly indifferent,  as  in  the  chanting  of  the  Nicene  Creed,  which  was 
adopted  in  accordance  with  his  conviction  that  creeds  in  public 
woiship  (Serm.  vol.  iii.  p.  310)  ought  to  be  used  as  triumphant 
hymns  of  thanksgiving  ;  or  still  more  in  the  Te  Deum,  which  he 
loved  so  dearly,  and  when  his  whole  countenance  would  be  lit  up 
at  his  favourite  verse — "  When  Thou  hadst  overcome  the  sharp- 

•  Sermons,  vol.  iii.  p.  211. 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


Ill 


ness  of  death,  Thou  didst  open  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  all  be- 
lievers." 

From  his  own  interest  in  the  service  naturally  flowed  his  anx- 
iety to  impart  it  to  his  scholars  ;  urging  them  in  his  later  sermons, 
or  in  his  more  private  addresses,  to  join  in  the  responses,  at  times 
with  such  effect,  that  at  least  from  all  the  older  part  of  the  school 
the  responses  were  very  general.  The  very  course  of  the  eccle- 
siastical year  would  often  be  associated  in  their  minds  with  their 
remembrance  of  the  peculiar  feeling  with  which  they  saw  that  he 
regarded  the  greater  festivals,  and  of  the  almost  invariable  connex- 
ion of  his  sermons  with  the  services  of  the  day.  The  touching 
recollections  of  those  amongst  the  living  or  the  dead,  whom  he 
loved  or  honoured,  which  passed  through  his  mind  as  he  spoke  of 
All  Saints'  Day,  and  whenever  it  was  possible,  of  its  accompa- 
nying feast,  now  no  longer  observed,  All  Souls'  Day  ; — and  the 
solemn  thoughts  of  the  advance  of  human  life,  and  of  the  progress 
of  the  human  race,  and  of  the  Church,  which  were  awakened  by 
the  approach  of  Advent, — might  have  escaped  a  careless  observer  • 
but  it  must  have  been  difficult  for  any  one  not  to  have  been  struck 
by  the  triumphant  exultation  of  his  whole  manner  on  the  recur- 
rence of  Easter  Day.  Lent  was  marked  during  his  last  three 
years,  but  the  putting  up  of  boxes  in  the  chapel  and  the  boarding- 
houses,  to  receive  money  for  the  poor,  a  practice  adopted  not  so 
much  with  the  view  of  relieving  any  actual  want,  as  of  affording 
the  boys  an  opportunity  for  self-denial  and  almsgiving.1 

He  was  anxious  to  secure  the  administration  of  the  rite  of  con- 
firmation, if  possible,  once  every  two  years  ;  when  the  boys  were 
prepared  by  himself  and  the  other  masters  in  their  different  board- 
ing-houses, who  each  brought  up  his  own  division  of  pupils  on 
the  day  of  the  ceremony ;  the  interest  of  which  was  further  en- 
hanced, during  his  earlier  years,  by  the  presence  of  the  late  Bishop 
Ryder,2  for  whom  he  entertained  a  great  respect,  and  latterly  by 

1  He  feared,  however,  to  introduce  more  religous  services  than  he  thought  the  boys 
would  bear  without  a  sense  of  tedium  or  formality,  on  which  principle  he  dropped  an 
existing  practice  of  devoting  all  the  lessons  in  Passion  Week  to  the  New  Testament  ; 
and  always  hesitated  to  have  a  chapel  service  on  such  festivals  as  did  not  fall  on 
Sundays,  though  in  the  last  year  of  his  life  he  made  an  exception  with  regard  to  As- 
cension Day. 

2  The  following  extract  from  a  sermon  preached  in  consequence  of  the  delay  of  con- 
firmation, by  Bishop  Ryder's  death,  may  serve  to  illustrate  as  well  his  general  feeling 
on  the  subject,  as  his  respect  for  the  individual. 

"  And  while  I  say  this,  it  is  impossible  not  to  remember  to  what  cause 

this  disappointment  has  been  owing,  namely  to  the  long  illness  and  death  of  the  late  ex- 
cellent Bishop  of  this  diocese.  This  is  neither  the  place  nor  the  congregation  for  a  fu- 
neral eulogy  on  that  excellent  person  ;  we  knew  him  too  little,  and  were  too  much  re- 
moved out  of  the  ordinary  sphere  of  his  ministry,  to  be  able  to  bear  the  best  witness  to 
him  Yet  many  here,  I  think,  will  remember  the  mariner  in  which  he  went  through  the 
rite  of  confirmation  in  this  chapel  three  years  ago  ;  the  earnestness  and  kindness  of  his 
manner,  the  manifest  interest  which  he  felt  in  the  service  in  which  he  was  ministering. 
And  though,  as  I  said,  we  were  comparatively  strangers  to  him,  yet  we  had  heard 
enough  of  him  to  receive,  without,  one  jarring  feeling,  the  full  impression  of  his  words  and 
manner  ;  we  knew  that  as  these  were  solemn  and  touching,  so  they  were  consistent  and  sin- 
cere ;  they  were   not  put  on  for  the  occasion,  nor  yet,  which  is  a  far  more  common 


112 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


the  presence  of  his  intimate  friend,  Archbishop  Whately.  The 
Confirmation  Hymn  of  Dr.  Hinds,  which  was  used  on  these  occa- 
sions, became  so  endeared  to  his  -recollections,  that,  when  travel- 
ling abroad  late  at  nigh.,  he  would  have  it  repeated  or  sung  to 
him.  One  of  the  earliest  public  addresses  to  the  school  was  that 
made  before  the  first  confirmation,  and  published  in  the  second 
volume  of  his  Sermons  ;  and  he  always  had  something  of  the  kind 
(over  and  above  the  Bishop's  charge)  either  before  or  after  the 
regular  Chapel  service. 

The  Communion  was  celebrated  four  times  a  year.  At  first, 
some  of  the  Sixth  Form  boys  alone  were  in  the  habit  of  attending  ; 
but  he  took  pains  to  invite  to  it  boys  in  all  parts  of  the  school, 
who  had  any  serious  thoughts,  so  that  the  number,  out  of  two 
hundred  and  ninety  or  three  hundred  boys,  was  occasionally  a 
hundred,  and  never  less  than  seventy.  To  individual  boys  he 
rarely  spoke  on  the  subject,  from  the  fear  of  its  becoming  a  matter 
of  form  or  favour;  but  in  his  sermons  he  dwelt  upon  it  much,  and 
would  afterwards  speak  with  deep  emotion  of  the  pleasure  and 
hope  which  a  larger  attendance  than  usual  would  give  him.  It 
was  impossible  to  hear  these  exhortations  or  to  see  him  administer 
it,  without  being  struck  by  the  strong  and  manifold  interest  which 
it  awakened  in  him  ;  and  at  Rugby  it  was  of  course  more  than 
usually  touching  to  him  from  its  peculiar  relation  to  the  school. 
When  he  spoke  of  it  in  his  sermons,  it  was  evident  that  amongst 
all  the  feelings  which  it  excited  in  himself,  and  which  he  wished 
to  impart  to  others,  none  was  so  prominent  as  the  sense  that  it 
was  a  communion  not  only  with  God,  but  with  one  another,  and 
that  the  thoughts  thus  roused  should  act  as  a  direct  and  especial 
counterpoise  to  that  false  communion  and  false  companionship, 
which,  as  binding  one  another  not  to  good  but  to  evil,  he  believed 
to  be  the  great  source  of  mischief  to  the  school  at  large.  And 
when, — especially  to  the  very  young  boys,  who  sometimes  partook 
of  the  Communion, — he  bent  himself  down  with  looks  of  fatherly 
tenderness,  and  glistening  eyes  and  trembling  voice,  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  elements,  it  was  felt,  perhaps,  more  distinctly 
than  at  any  other  time,  how  great  was  the  sympathy  which  he 
felt  with  the  earliest  advances  to  good  in  every  individual  boy. 

case,  did  they  spring  out  of  the  occasion.  It  was  not  the  mere  natural  and  momentary 
feeling  which  might  have  arisen  even  in  a  careless  mind,  while  engaged  in  a  work  so 
peculiarly  striking;  but  it  was  truly  the  feeling  not  of  the  occasion,  but  of  the  man. 
He  but  showed  himself  to  us  as  he  was,  and  thus  we  might  and  may  dwell  with  plea- 
sure on  the  recollection  long  after  the  immediate  effect  was  over;  and  may  think  truly 
that,  when  he  told  us  how  momentous  were  the  interests  involved  in  the  promises  and 
prayers  of  that  service,  he  told  us  no  more  than  he  himself  most  earnestly  believed  ; 
he  urged  us  to  no  other  faith,  to  no  other  course  of  living,  than  that  which  by  God's  grace 
he  had  long  made  his  own.  It  is  a  great  blessing  to  God's  church  when  they  who  are 
called  to  the  higher  offices  of  the  ministry  in  it,  thus  give  to  their  ministry  the  weight, 
not  of  their  words  only,  but  of  their  lives.  Still  we  must  remember  that  the  care  of 
our  souls  is  our  own, — that  God's  means  of  grace  and  warnings  furnished  us  by  the 
ministry  of  his  church,  are  no  way  dependent  upon  the  personal  character  of  the  min- 
ister;  that  confirmation,  with  all  its  opportunities,  is  still  the  same  point  in  our  lives, 
by  whomsoever  it  may  be  administered." 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


113 


That  part  of  the  Chapel  service,  however,  which,  at  least  to 
the  world  at  large,  is  most  connected  with  him,  as  being  the  most 
frequent  and  most  personal  of  his  ministrations,  was  his  preaching. 
Sermons  had  occasionally  been  preached  by  the  Head-master  of 
this  and  other  public  schools  to  their  scholars  before  his  coming  to 
Rugby ;  but  (in  some  cases  from  the  peculiar  constitution  or 
arrangement  of  the  school)  it  had  never  before  been  considered  an 
essential  part  of  the  head-master's  office.  The  first  half-year  he 
confined  himself  to  delivering  short  addresses,  of  about  five  min- 
utes' length,  to  the  boys  of  his  own  house.  But  from  the  second 
half-year  he  began  to  preach  frequently ;  and  from  the  autumn  of 
1831,  when  he  took  the  chaplaincy,1  which  had  then  become 
vacant,  he  preached  almost  every  Sunday  of  the  school  year  to  the 
end  of  his  life.  It  may  be  allowable  to  dwell  for  a  few  moments 
on  a  practice  which  has  since  been  followed,  whenever  it  was 
practicable,  in  the  other  great  public  schools,  and  on  sermons, 
which,  as  they  were  the  first  of  their  kind,  will  also  be  probably 
long  looked  upon  as  models  of  their  kind,  in  English  preaching. 
They  were  preached  always  in  the  afternoon,  and  lasted  seldom 
more  than  twenty  minutes,  sometimes  less  ;  a  new  one  almost 
every  time.  "A  man  could  hardly,"  he  said,  "preach  on  the 
same  subject,  without  writing  a  better  sermon  than  he  had  written 
a  few  years  before."  However  much  they  may  have  occupied  his 
previous  thoughts,  they  were  written  almost  invariably  between 
the  morning  and  afternoon  service  ;  and  though  often  under  such 
stress  of  time  that  the  ink  of  the  last  sentence  was  hardly  dry 
when  the  chapel  bell  ceased  to  sound,  they  contain  hardly  a  single 
erasure,  and  the  manuscript  volumes  remain  as  accessible  a  trea- 
sure to  their  possessors  as  if  they  were  printed. 

When  he  first  began  to  preach,  he  felt  that  his  chief  duty  was 
to  lay  bare,  in  the  plainest  language  that  he  could  use,  the  sources 
of  the  evils  of  schools,  and  to  contrast  them  with  the  purity  of  the 
moral  law  of  Christianity.     "  The  spirit  of  Elijah,"  he  said,  "must 

1  Extract  from  a  letter  to  the  Trustees,  applying  for  the  situation  : — "  I  had  no 
knowledge  nor  so  much  as  the  slightest  suspicion  of  the  vacancy,"  he  writes,  "  till  I  was 
informed  of  it  last  night.  But  the  importance  of  the  point  is  so  great  that  I  most  re- 
spectfully crave  the  indulgence  of  the  Trustees  to  the  request  I  venture  to  submit  to 
them,  namely,  that  if  they  see  no  objection  to  it  I  may  myself  be  appointed  to  the  chap- 
laincy, waiving,  of  course,  altogether  the  salary  attached  to  the  office.  Whoever  is  chap- 
lain, I  must  ever  feel  myself,  as  Head-master,  the  real  and  proper  religious  instructor  of 
the  boys.  No  one  else  can  feel  the  same  interest  in  them,  and  no  one  else  (I  am  not 
speaking  of  myself  personally,  but  merely  by  virtue  of  my  situation)  can  speak  to  them 
with  so  much  influence.  In  fact,  it  seems  to  me  the  natural  and  fitting  thing,  and  the 
great  advantage  of  having  a  separate  chapel  for  the  school — that  the  master  of  the  boys 
should  be  officially  as  well  as  really  their  pastor,  and  that  he  should  not  devolve  on  an- 
other, however  well  qualified,  one  of  his  own  most  peculiar  and  solemn  duties.  This, 
however,  is  a  general  question,  which  I  only  venture  so  far  to  enter  upon,  in  explaining 
my  motives  in  urging  and  requesting,  in  this  present  instance,  that  the  Trustees  would 
present  me  to  the  Bishop  to  be  licensed,  allowing  me  altogether  to  decline  the  salary,  be- 
cause 1  consider  that  I  am  paid  for  my  services  already;  and  that  being  Head-master 
and  clergyman,  I  am  bound  to  be  the  religious  instructor  of  m  y  pupils  by  virtue  of  my 
situation." 


114  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

ever  precede  the  spirit  of  Christ."  But  as  he  advanced,  there  is  a 
marked  contrast  between  the  severe  tone  of  his  early  sermons  in 
the  Second  volume,  when  all  was  yet  knew  to  him,  except  the 
knowledge  of  the  evil  which  he  had  to  combat,  and  the  gentler 
tone  which  could  not  but  be  inspired  by  his  greater  familiarity 
both  with  his  work  and  his  pupils — between  the  direct  attack  on 
particular  faults  which  marks  the  course  of  Lent  Sermons  in  1830, 
and  the  wish  to  sink  the  mention  of  particular  faults  in  the  general 
principle  of  love  to  Christ  and  abhorrence  of  sin,  which  marks  the 
summary  of  his  whole  school  experience  in  the  last  sermon  which 
he  ever  preached.  When  he  became  the  constant  preacher,  he 
made  a  point  of  varying  the  more  directly  practical  addresses  with 
sermons  on  the  interpretation  of  Scripture,  on  the  general  princi- 
ples and  evidences  of  Christianity,  or  on  the  dangers  of  their  after 
life,  applicable  chiefly  to  the  elder  boys.  Amongst  these  last 
should  be  noticed  those  which  contained  more  or  less  the  expres- 
sion of  his  sentiments  on  the  principles  to  which  he  conceived  his 
pupils  liable  hereafter  to  be  exposed  at  Oxford,  and  most  of  which, 
as  being  of  a  more  general  interest,  he  selected  for  publication  in 
his  third  and  fourth  volumes.  That  their  proportion  to  those  that 
are  published  affords  no  measure  of  their  proportion  to  those  that 
are  unpublished,  may  be  seen  at  once  by  reference  to  the  year's 
course  in  the  fifth  volume,  which,  out  of  thirty  four,  contains  only 
four  which  could  possibly  be  included  in  this  class.  That  it  was 
not  his  own  intention  to  make  them  either  personal  or  controver- 
sial, appears  from  an  explanation  to  a  friend  of  a  statement,  which, 
in  1839,  appeared  in  the  newspapers,  that  he  "had  been  preaching 
a  course  of  sermons  against  the  Oxford  errors." — "  The  origin  of 
the  paragraph  was  simply  this :  that  I  preached  two  in  February, 
showing  that  the  exercise  of  our  own  judgment  was  not  incon- 
sistent with  the  instruction  and  authority  of  the  Church,  or  with 
individual  modesty  and  humility,  [viz.,  the  thirty-first  and  thirty- 
second  in  vol.  iv.]  They  were  not  in  the  least  controversial,  and 
neither  mentioned  nor  alluded  to  the  Oxford  writers.  And  I  have 
preached  only  these  two  which  could  even  be  supposed  to  bear 
upon  their  doctrines.  Indeed,  I  should  not  think  it  right,  except 
under  very  different  circumstances  from  "present  ones,  to  occupy 
the  boys'  time  or  thoughts  with  such  controversies."  The  general 
principles,  accordingly,  which  form  the  groundwork  of  all  these 
sermons,  are  such  as  are  capable  of  a  far  wider  application  than  to 
any  particular  school  of  English  opinion,  and  often  admit  of  direct 
application  to  the  moral  condition  of  the  school.  But  the  quick 
ears  of  boys  no  doubt  were  always  ready  to  give  such  sermons  a 
more  personal  character  than  he  had  intended,  or  perhaps  had 
even  in  his  mind  at  the  moment ;  and  at  times,  when  the  fear  of 
these  opinions  was  more  forcibly  impressed  upon  him,  the  allusion 
and  even  mention  of  the  writers  in  question  is  so  direct,  that  no 
one  could  mistake  it. 

But  it  was  of  course  in  their  direct  practical  application  to  the 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


115 


boys,  that  the  chief  novelty  and  excellence  of  his  sermons  consist- 
ed. Yet,  though  he  spoke  with  almost  conversational  plainness 
on  the  peculiar  condition  of  public  schools,  his  language  never  left 
an  impression  of  familiarity,  rarely  of  personal  allusion.  In  cases 
of  notorious  individual  misconduct,  he  generally  shrunk  from  any 
pointed  mention  of  them,  and  on  one  occasion  when  he  wished  to 
address  the  boys  on  an  instance  of  untruthfulness  which  had 
deeply  grieved  him,  he  had  the  sermon  before  the  regular  service, 
in  order  to  be  alone  in  the  Chapel  with  the  boys,  without  the  pres- 
ence even  of  the  other  masters.1  Earnest  and  even  impassioned 
as  his  appeals  were,  himself  at  times  almost  overcome  with  emo- 
tion, there  was  yet  nothing  in  them  of  excitement.  In  speaking  of 
the  occasional  deaths  in  the  school,  he  would  dwell  on  the  general 
solemnity  of  the  event,  rather  than  on  any  individual  or  agitating 
details  ;  and  the  impression  thus  produced,  instead  of  belonging  to 
the  feeling  of  the  moment,  has  become  part  of  an  habitual  rule  for 
the  whole  conduct  of  life.  Often  he  would  speak  with  severity 
and  bitter  disappointment  of  the  evils  of  the  place  ;  yet  there  was 
hardly  ever  a  sermon  which  did  not  contain  some  words  of  encour- 
agement. "  I  have  never,"  he  said  in  his  last  sermon,  "  wished  to 
speak  with  exaggeration  :  it  seems  to  me  as  unwise  as  it  is  wrong 
to  do  so.  I  think  that  it  is  quite  right  to  observe  what  is  hopeful 
in  us,  as  well  as  what  is  threatening  ;  that  general  confessions 
of  unmixed  evil  are  deceiving  and  hardening,  rather  than  arous- 
ing ;  that  our  evil  never  looks  so  really  dark  as  when  we  contrast 
it  with  any  thing  which  there  mav  be  in  us  of  good."  (Serm.  vol. 
v.  p.  460.) 

Accordingly,  even  from  the  first,  and  much  more  in  after  years, 
there  was  blended  with  his  sterner  tone  a  strain  of  affectionate  en- 
treaty— an  appeal  to  principles,  which  could  be  appreciated  only  by 
a  few— exhortations  to  duties,  such  as  self-denial,  and  visiting  the 
poor,  which  some  at  least  might  practise,  whilst  none  could  deny 
their  obligation.  There  also  appeared  most  evidently — what  in- 
deed pervaded  his  whole  school  life — the  more  than  admiration 
with  which  he  regarded  those  who  struggled  against  the  stream 
of  school  opinion,  and  the  abiding  comfort  which  they  afforded 
him.  In  them  he  saw  not  merely  good  boys  and  obedient  schol- 
ars, but  the  companions  of  every  thing  high  and  excellent,  with 
which  his  strong  historical  imagination  peopled,  the  past,  or 
which  his  lively  sense  of  things  unseen  realized  in  the  invisible 
world.     There  were  few  present  in  the  chapel  who  were  not  at 

1  On  another  occasion,  the  practice  of  drinking  having  prevailed  to  a  great  extent 
in  the  school,  lie  addressed  the  boys  at  considerable  lengih  from  his  place  in  the  great 
school,  saying  that  he  should  have  spoken  to  them  from  the  pulpit,  but  that  as  there 
were  others  present  in  the  chapel,  he  wished  to  hide  their  shame.  And  then,  (saya 
one  who  was  present,)  "  in  a  tone  of  the  deepest  feeling,  as  if  it  wrung  his  inmost 
heart  to  confess  the  existence  of  such  an  evil  amongst  us,"  he  dwelt  upon  the  sin  and 
the  folly  of  the  habit,  even  where  intoxication  was  not  produced — its  evil  effects  both 
on  body  and  mind — the  folly  of  fancying  it  to  be  manly — its  geneial  effect  on  the 
school. 


J  IQ  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

least  for  the  moment  touched,  when,  in  one  of  his  earliest  ser- 
mons, he  closed  one  of  these  earnest  appeals  with  the  lines 
from  Milton  which  always  deeply  moved  him, — the  blessing  on 
Abdiel. 

But  more  than  either  matter  or  manner  of  his  preaching,  was 
the  impression  of  himself.  Even  the  mere  readers  of  his  sermons 
will  derive  from  them  the  history  of  his  whole  mind,  and  of  his 
whole  management  of  the  school.  But  to  his  hearers  it  was  more 
than  this.  It  was  the  man  himself,  there  more  than  in  any  other 
place,  concentrating  all  his  various  faculties  and  feelings  on  one 
sole  object,  combating  face  to  face  the  evil  with  which,  directly  or 
indirectly,  he  was  elsewhere  perpetually  struggling.  He  was  not 
the  preacher  or  the  clergyman,  who  had  left  behind  all  his  usual 
thoughts  and  occupations  as  soon  as  he  had  ascended  the  pulpit. 
He  was  still  the  scholar,  the  historian,  and  theologian,  basing  all 
that  he  said,  not  indeed  ostensibly,  but  consciously,  and  often  visi- 
bly, on  the  deepest  principles  of  the  past  and  present.  He  was 
still  the  instructor  and  the  schoolmaster,  only  teaching  and  edu- 
cating with  increased  solemnity  and  energy.  He  was  still  the 
simple-hearted  and  earnest  man,  labouring  to  win  others  to  share 
in  his  own  personal  feelings  of  disgust  at  sin,  and  love  of  goodness, 
and  to  trust  to  the  same  faith  in  which  he  hoped  to  live  and  die 
himself. 

It  is  difficult  to  describe,  without  seeming  to  exaggerate,  the  at- 
tention with  which  he  was  heard  by  all  above  the  very  young 
boys.  Years  have  passed  away,  and  many  of  his  pupils  can  look 
back  to  hardly  any  greater  interest  than  that  with  which,  for  those 
twenty  minutes,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  they  sat  beneath  that  pul- 
pit, with  their  eyes  fixed  upon  him,  and  their  attention  strained  to 
the  utmost  to  catch  every  word  that  he  uttered.  It  is  true,  that, 
even  to  the  best,  there  was  much,  and  to  the  mass  of  boys,  the 
greater  part  of  what  he  said,  that  must  have  passed  away  from 
them  as  soon  as  they  had  heard  it,  without  any  corresponding 
fruits.  But  they  were  struck,  as  boys  naturally  would  be,  by  the 
originality  of  his  thoughts,  and  what  always  impressed  them  as 
the  beauty  of  his  language ;  and  in  the  substance  of  what  he  said, 
much  that  might  have  seemed  useless,  because  for  the  most  part 
impracticable  to  boys,  was  not  without  its  effect  in  breaking  com- 
pletely through  the  corrupt  atmosphere  of  school  opinion,  and  ex- 
hibiting before  them  once  every  week  an  image  of  high  principle 
and  feeling,  which  they  felt  was  not  put  on  for  the  occasion,  but 
was  constantly  living  amongst  them.  And  to  all  it  must  have 
been  an  advantage,  that,  for  once  in  their  lives,  they  had  listened 
to  sermons,  which  none  of  them  could  associate  with  the  thought 
of  weariness,  formality,,  or  exaggeration.  On  many  there  was  left 
an  impression  to  which,  though  unheeded  at  the  time,  they  recurred 
in  after  life.  Even  the  most  careless  boys  would  sometimes,  during 
the  course  of  the  week,  refer  almost  involuntarily  to  the  sermon 
of  the  past  Sunday,  as  a  condemnation  of  what  they  were  doing. 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  J  17 

Some,  whilst  they  wonder  how  it  was  that  so  little  practical  ef- 
fect was  produced  upon  themselves  at  the  time,  yet  retain  the 
recollection,  (to  give  the  words  of  one  who  so  describes  himself,) 
that,  "  I  used  to  listen  to  them  from  first  to  last  with  a  kind  of 
awe,  and  over  and  over  again  could  not  join  my  friends  at  the 
chapel  door,  but  would  walk  home  to  be  alone ;  and  I  remem- 
ber the  same  effects  being  produced  by  them,  more  or  less,  on 
others,  whom  I  should  have  thought  hard  as  stones,  and  on 
whom  I  should  think  Arnold  looked  as  some  of  the  worst  boys  in 
the  school." 

IV.  Although  the  Chapel  was  the  only  place  in  which,  to  the 
school  at  large,  he  necessarily  appeared  in  a  purely  pastoral  and 
personal  relation — yet  this  relation  extended  in  his  view  to  his 
whole  management  of  his  scholars  ;  and  he  conceived  it  to  be  his 
duty  and  that  of  the  other  masters  to  throw  themselves,  as  much 
as  possible,  into  the  way  of  understanding  and  entering  into  the 
feelings  of  the  boys,  not  only  in  their  official  intercourse,  but  al- 
ways. When  he  was  first  appointed  at  Rugby,  his  friends  had 
feared  that  the  indifference  which  he  felt  towards  characters  and 
persons  with  whom  he  had  no  especial  sympathy,  would  have  in- 
terfered with  his  usefulness  as  Head-master.  But  in  the  case 
of  boys,  a  sense  of  duty  supplied  the  want  of  that  interest  in  char- 
acter, as  such,  of  which,  in  the  case  of  men,  he  possessed  but  little. 
Much  as  there  was  in  the  peculiar  humour  of  boys  which  his  own 
impatience  of  moral  thoughtlessness,  or  of  treating  serious  or  im- 
portant subjects  with  any  thing  like  ridicule  or  irony,  prevented 
him  from  fully  appreciating,  yet  he  truly  felt,  that  the  natural 
youthfulness  and  elasticity  of  his  constitution  gave  him  a  great 
advantage  in  dealing  with  them.  "When  I  find  that  I  cannot 
ran  up  the  library  stairs,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  know  that  it  is  time  for 
me  to  go." 

Thus  traits  and  actions  of  boys,  which  to  a  stranger  would 
have  told  nothing,  were  to  him  highly  significant.  His  quick  and 
far-sighted  eye  became  familiar  with  the  face  and  manner  of  every 
boy  in  the  school.  "  Do  you  see,"  he  said  to  an  assistant  master 
who  had  recently  come,  "  those  two  boys  walking  together :  I  never 
saw  them  together  before  ;  you  should  make  it  an  especial  point  of 
observing  the  company  they  keep  : — nothing  so  tells  the  changes 
in  a  boy's  character."  The  insight  which  he  thus  accuiired  into 
the  general  characteristics  of  boyhood,  will  not  be  doubted  by  any 
reader  of  his  sermons;  and  his  scholars  used  sometimes  to  be 
startled  by  the  knowledge  of  their  own  notions,  which  his  speeches 
to  them  implied.  "  Often  and  often,"  says  one  of  them,  "  have  I 
said  to  myself,  '  If  it  was  one  of  ourselves  who  had  just  spoken,  he 
could  not  more  completely  have  known  and  understood  our 
thoughts  and  ideas.'  "  And,  though  it  might  happen  that  his  opin- 
ion of  boys  would,  like  his  opinions  of  men,  be  too  much  influenced 
by  his  disposition  to  judge  of  the  whole  from  some  one  prominent 
feature,   and  though  his  fixed  adherence  to  general  rules  might 


|18  LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

sometimes  prevent  him  from  making  exceptions  where  the  case 
required  it ;  yet  few  could  have  been  long  familiar  with  him  without 
being  struck  by  the  distinctness,  the  vividness,  and,  in  spite  of 
great  occasional  mistakes,  the  very  general  truth  and  accuracy  of 
his  delineation  of  their  individual  characters,  or  the  readiness  with 
which,  whilst  speaking  most  severely  of  a  mass  of  boys,  he 
would  make  allowances,  and  speak  hopefully  in  any  particular 
instance  that  came  before  him.  Often  before  any  other  eye  had 
discerned  it,  he  saw  the  germs  of  coming  good  or  evil,  and  pro- 
nounced confident  decisions,  doubted  at  the  time,  but  subsequently 
proved  to  be  correct ;  so  that  those  who  lived  with  him,  de- 
scribed themselves  as  trusting  to  his  opinions  of  boys  as  to  divi- 
nations, and  feeling  as  if  by  an  unfavourable  judgment  their  fate 
was  sealed. 

His  relation  to  the  boarders  in  his  own  house  (called  by  dis- 
tinction the  School-house,  and  containing  between  sixty  and  seven- 
ty boys)  naturally  afforded  more  scope  for  communication  than 
with  the  rest  of  the  school.     Besides  the  opportunities  which  he 
took  of  showing  kindness  and  attention  to  them  in  his  own  family, 
in  cases  of  distress  or  sickness,  he  also  made  use  of  the  preparation 
for  confirmation  for  private  conversation  with  them ;  and  during 
the  later  years  of  his  life  was  accustomed  to  devote  an  hour  or 
more  in  the  evening  to  seeing  each  of  them  alone  by  turns,  and 
talking  on  such  topics  as  presented  themselves,  leading  them  if  pos- 
sible to  more  serious  subjects.     The  general  management  of  the 
house,  both  from  his  strong  dislike  to  intruding  on  the  privacy  even 
of  the  youngest,  and  from  the  usual  principles  of  trust  on  which  he 
proceeded,  he  left  as  much  as  possible  to  the  Praepostors.     Still  his 
presence  and  manner  when  he  appeared  officially,  either  on  special 
calls,  or  on  the  stated  occasions  of  calling  over  their  names  twice  a 
day,  was  not  without  its  effect.     One  of  the  scenes  that  most  lives 
in  the  memory  of  his  school-house  pupils  is  their  night  muster  in  the 
rudely  lighted  hall — his  tall  figure  at  the  head  of  the  files  of  boys 
arranged  on  each  side  of  the  long  tables,  whPst  the  prayers  were  read 
by  one  of  the  Praepostors,  and  a  portion  of  Scripture  by  himself. 
This  last  was  a  practice,  which  he  introduced  soon  after  his  arrival, 
when,  on  one  of  those  occasions,  he  spoke  strongly  to  the  boys  on 
the  necessity  of  each  reading  some  part  of  "the  Bible  every  day,  and 
then  added,  that  as  he  feared  that  many  would  not  make  the  rule 
for  themselves,  he  should  for  the  future  always  read  a  passage 
every  evening  at  this  time.     He  usually  brought  in  his  Greek  Tes- 
tament, and  read  about  half  a  chapter  in  English,  most  frequently 
from  the  close  of  St.  John's  Gospel ;  when  from  the  Old  Testament, 
especially  his  favourite  Psalms,  the  19th  for  example,  and   the 
107th,  and  the  others  relating  to  the  beauty  of  the  natural  world. 
He  never  made  any  comment ;  but  his  manner  of  reading  impress- 
ed the  boys  considerably,  and  it  was  observed  by  some  of  them, 
shortly  after  the  practice  was  commenced,  that  they  had  never 
understood  the  Psalms  before.     On  Sunday  nights  he  read  a  prayer 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


119 


of  his  own,  and  before  he  began  to  preach  regularly  in  the  chapel, 
delivered  the  short  addresses  which  have  been  before  mentioned, 
and  which  he  resumed,  in  addition  to  his  other  work  on  Sundays, 
during  the' last  year  and  a  half  of  his  life. 

.  With  the  boys  in  the  Sixth  Form  his  private  intercourse  was 
comparatively  frequent,  whether  in  the  lessons,  or  in  questions  of 
school  government,  or  in  the  more  familiar  relation  in  which  they 
were  brought  to  him  in  their  calls  before  and  after  the  holidays, 
their  dinners  with  him  during  the  half  year,  and  the  visits  which 
one  or  more  used  by  turns  to  pay  to  him  in  Westmoreland  during 
part  of  the  vacation.  But  with  the  greater  part  of  the  school  it  was 
almost  entirely  confined  to  such  opportunities  as  arose  out  of  the 
regular  course  of  school  discipline  or  instruction,  and  the  occasional 
invitations  to  his  house  of  such  amongst  the  younger  boys,  as  he 
could  find  any  reason  or  excuse  for  asking. 

It  would  thus  often  happen  in  so  large  a  number  that  a  boy 
would  leave  Rugby  without  any  personal  communication  with  him 
at  all ;  and  even  in  the  higher  part  of  the  school,  those  who  most 
respected  him  would  sometimes  complain,  even  with  bitterness, 
that  he  did  not  give  them  greater  opportunities  of  asking  his  ad- 
vice, or  himself  offer  more  frequently  to  direct  their  studies  and 
guide  their  inquiries.  Latterly,  indeed,  he  communicated  with 
them  more  frequently,  and  expressed  himself  more  freely  both  in 
public  and  private  on  the  highest  subjects.  But  he  was  always  re- 
strained from  speaking  much  or  often,  both  from  the  extreme  diffi- 
culty which  he  felt  in  saying  any  thing  without  a  real  occasion 
for  it,  and  also  from  his  principle  of  leaving  as  much  as  possible  to 
be  filled  up  by  the  judgment  of  the  boys  themselves,  and  from  his 
deep  conviction  that,  in  the  most  important  matters  of  all,  the  move- 
ment must  come  not  from  without  but  from  within.  And  it  certain- 
ly was  the  case  that,  whenever  he  did  make  exceptions  to  this 
rule,  and  spoke  rather  as  their  friend  than  their  master,  the  sim- 
plicity of  his  words,  the  rareness  of  their  occurrence,  and  the  stern 
back-ground  of  his  ordinary  administration,  gave  a  double  force  to 
all  that  was  said. 

Such,  for  example,  would  be  the  effect  of  his  speaking  of  swear- 
ing to  a  boy,  not  so  much  in  anger  or  reproof,  as  assuring  him  how 
every  year  he  would  learn  to  see  more  and  more  how  foolish  and 
disgusting  such  language  was  ;  or  again,  the  distinction  he  would 
point  out  to  them  between  mere  amusement  and  such  as  encroached 
on  the  next  day's  duties,  when  as  he  said,  "  it  immediately  becomes 
what  St.  Paul  calls  revelling.''''  Such  also  would  be  the  impression 
of  his  severe  rebukes  for  individual  faults,  showing  by  their  very 
shortness  and  abruptness  his  loathing  and  abhorrence  of  evil. 
"  Nowhere,"  he  said,  in  speaking  to  some  boys  on  bad  behaviour 
during  prayers  at  their  boarding-house, — "  Nowhere  is  Satan's 
work  more  evidently  manifest  than  in  turning  holy  things  to  ridi- 
cule." Such  also  were  the  cases,  in  which,  more  than  once,  boys, 
who  were  tormented  while  at  school  with  skeptical  doubts,  took 


]20  LIFE  °F   DR.  ARNOLD. 

courage  at  last  to  unfold  them  to  him,  and  were  almost  startled  to 
find  the  ready  sympathy  with  which,  instead  of  denouncing  them 
as  profane,  he  entered  into  their  difficulties  and  applied  his  whole 
mind  to  assuage  them.  So  again,  when  dealing  with  the  worst 
class  of  boys,  in  whom  he  saw  indications  of  improvement,  he 
would  grant  indulgences,  which  on  ordinary  occasions  he  would 
have  denied,  with  a  view  of  encouraging  them  by  signs  of  his  con- 
fidence in  them  ;  and  at  times,  on  discovering  cases  of  vice,  he 
would,  instead  of  treating  them  with  contempt  or  extreme  severity, 
tenderly  allow  the  force  of  the  temptation,  and  urge  it  upon  them  as 
a  proof  brought  home  to  their  own  minds,  how  surely  they  must 
look  for  help  out  of  themselves. 

In  his  preparation  of  boys  for  Confirmation  he  followed  the 
same  principle.  The  printed  questions  which  he  issued  for  them 
were  intended  rather  as  guides  to  their  thoughts  than  as  necessary 
to  be  formally  answered ;  and  his  own  interviews  with  them  were 
very  brief.  But  the  few  words  which  he  then  spoke — the  simple 
repetition,  for  example,  of  the  promise  made  to  prayer,  with  his 
earnest  assurance,  that  if  that  was  not  true,  nothing  was  true  ;  if 
any  thing  in  the  Bible  could  be  relied  upon,  it  was  that — have  be- 
come the  turning  point  of  a  boy's  character,  and  graven  on  his 
memory  as  a  law  for  life. 

But.  independently  of  particular  occasions  of  intercourse,  there 
was  a  deep  under  current  of  sympathy  which  extended  to  almost 
all,  and  which  from  time  to  time  broke  through  the  reserve  of  his 
outward  manner.  In  cases  where  it  might  have  been  thought  that 
tenderness  would  have  been  extinguished  by  indignation,  he  was 
sometimes  so  deeply  affected  in  pronouncing  sentence  of  punish- 
ment on  offenders,  as  to  be  hardly  able  to  speak.  "I  felt,"  he  said 
once  of  some  great  fault  of  which  he  had  heard  in  one  of  the  Sixth 
Form,  and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he  spoke,  "  as  if  it  had  been 
one  of  my  own  children,  and,  till  I  had  ascertained  that  it  was 
really  true,  I  mentioned  it  to  no  one,  not  even  to  any  of  the  mas- 
ters." And  this  feeling  began,  before  he  could  have  had  any  per- 
sonal knowledge  of  them.  "  If  he  should  turn  out  ill,"  he  said  of 
a  young  boy  of  promise  to  one  of  the  assistant  masters,  and  his 
voice  trembled  with  emotion  as  he  spoke,  "  I  think  it  would  break 
my  heart."  Nor  were  any  thoughts  so  bitter  to  him,  as  those  sug- 
gested by  the  innocent  faces  of  little  boys  as  they  first  came  from 
home, — nor  any  expressions  of  his  moral  indignation  deeper,  than 
when  he  heard  of  their  being  tormented  or  tempted  into  evil  by 
their  companions.  "  It  is  a  most  touching  thing  to  me,"  he  said 
once  in  the  hearing  of  one  of  his  former  pupils,  on  the  mention 
of  some  new  comers,  "  to  receive  a  new  fellow  from  his  father — 
when  I  think  what  an  influence  there  is  in  this  place  for  evil,  as 
well  as  for  good.  I  do  not  know  any  thing  which  affects  me  more." 
His  pupil,  who  had,  on  his  own  first  coming,  been  impressed  chiefly 
by  the  severitv  of  his  manner,  expressed  some  surprise,  adding,  that 
he  should  have  expected  this  to  wear  away  with  the  succession  of 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  121 

fresh  arrivals.  "  No,"  he  said,  "  if  ever  I  could  receive  a  new  boy 
from  his  father  without  emotion,  I  should  think  it  was  high  time  to 
be  off." 

What  he  felt  thus  on  ordinary  occasions,  was  heightened  of 
course  when  any  thing  brought  strongly  before  him  any  evil  in  the 
school.  "  If  this  goes  on,"  he  wrote  to  a  former  pupil  on  some  such 
occasion,  "  it  will  end  either  my  life  at  Rugby,  or  my  life  altogether." 
"  How  can  I  go  on,"  he  said,  "  with  my  Roman  History?  There 
all  is  noble  and  high-minded,  and  here  I  find  nothing  but  the  re- 
verse." The  following  extract  from  a  letter  to  his  friend,  Sir  T. 
Pasley,  describes  this  feeling. 

"  Since  I  began  this  letter,  I  have  had  some  of  the  troubles  of  school- 
keeping;  and  one  of  those  specimens  of  the  evil  of  boy-nature,  which 
makes  me  always  unwilling  to  undergo  the  responsibility  of  advising  any 
man  to  send  his  son  to  a  public  school.  There  has  been  a  system  of  per- 
secution carried  on  by  the  bad  against  the  good,  and  then,  when  complaint 
was  made  to  me,  there  came  fresh  persecution  on  that  very  account ;  and 
divers  instances  of  boys  joining  in  it  out  of  pure  cowardice,  both  physical 
and  moral,  when  if  left  to  themselves  they  would  have  rather  shunned  it. 
And  the  exceedingly  small  number  of  boys,  who  can  be  relied  on  for  active 
and  steady  good  on  these  occasions,  and  the  way  in  which  the  decent 
and  respectable  of  ordinary  life  (Carlyle's  '  Shams')  are  sure  on  these  occa- 
sions to  swim  with  the  stream,  and  take  part  with  the  evil,  makes  me 
strongly  feel  exemplified  what  the  Scripture  says  about  the  strait  gate  and 
the  wide  one, — a  view  of  human  nature,  which,  when  looking  on  human  life 
in  its  full  dress  of  decencies  and  civilizations,  we  are  apt,  I  imagine,  to  find 
it  hard  to  realize.  But  here,  in  the  nakedness  of  boy-nature,  one  is  quite 
able  to  understand  how  there  could  not  be  found  so  many  as  even  ten 
righteous  in  a  whole  city.  And  how  to  meet  this  evil  I  really  do  not  know ; 
but  to  find  it  thus  rife  alter  I  have  been  [so  many]  years  fighting  against  it, 
is  so  sickening,  that  it  is  very  hard  not  to  throw  up  the  cards  in  despair,  and 
upset  the  table.  But  then  the  stars  of  nobleness,  which  I  see  amidst  the 
darkness,  in  the  case  of  the  few  good,  are  so  cheering,  that  one  is  inclined 
to  stick  to  the  ship  again,  and  have  another  good  try  at  getting  her  about." 

V.  As,  on  the  one  hand,  his  interest  and  sympathy  with  the 
boys  far  exceeded  any  direct  manifestation'  of  it  towards  them,  so, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  impression  which  he  produced  upon  them 
was  derived,  not  so  much  from  any  immediate  intercourse  or  con- 
versation with  him,  as  from  the  general  influence  of  his  whole 
character,  displayed  consistently  whenever  he  appeared  before  them. 
This  influence,  with  its  consequent  effects,  was  gradually  on  the 
increase  during  the  whole  of  his  stay.  From  the  earliest  period, 
indeed,  the  boys  weye  conscious  of  something  unlike  what  they 
had  been  taught  to  imagine  of  a  schoolmaster,  and  by  many,  a 
lasting  regard  was  contracted  for  him  ;  but  it  was  not  till  he  had 
been  in  his  post  some  years,  that  there  arose  that  close  bond  of  union 
which  characterized  his  relation  to  his  elder  pupils ;  and  it  was, 
again,  not  till  later  still  that  this  feeling  extended  itself,  more  or  less, 
through  the  mass  of  the  school,  so  that,  in  the  higher  forms  at  least, 
it  became  the  fashion  (so  to  speak)  to  think  and  talk  of  him  with 
pride  and  affection. 

The  liveliness  and  simplicity  of  his  whole  behaviour  must  al- 

9 


122  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

ways  have  divested  his  earnestness  of  any  appearance  of  morose- 
ness  and  affectation.  " He  calls  us  fellows"  was  the  astonished 
expression  of  the  boys  when,  soon  after  his  first  coming,  they  heard 
him  speak  of  them  by  the  familiar  name  in  use  amongst  themselves ; 
and  in  his  later  years,  they  observed  with  pleasure  the  unaffected  in- 
terest with  which,  in  the  long  autumn  afternoons,  he  would  often 
stand  in  the  school-field  and  watch  the  issue  of  their  favourite  games 
of  football.  But  his  ascendency  was,  generally  speaking,  not  gained, 
at  least  in  the  first  instance,  by  the  effect  of  his  outward  manner. 
There  was  a  shortness,  at  times,  something  of  an  awkwardness,  in 
his  address,  occasioned  partly  by  his  natural  shyness,  partly  by  his 
dislike  of  wasting  words  on  trivial  occasions,  which  to  boys  must 
have  been  often  repulsive  rather  than  conciliating ;  something  also  of 
extreme  severity  in  his  voice  and  countenance,  beyond  what  he  was 
himself  at  all  aware  of.  With  the  very  little  boys,  indeed,  his  man- 
ner partook  of  that  playful  kindness  and  tenderness,  which  always 
marked  his  intercourse  with  children  ;  in  examining  them  in  the 
lower  forms,  he  would  sometimes  take  them  on  his  knee,  and  go 
through  picture-books  of  the  Bible  or  of  English  History,  covering 
the  text  ,of  the  narrative  with  his  hand,  and  making  them  explain 
to  him  the  subject  of*  the  several  prints.  But,  in  those  above  this 
early  age,  and  yet  below  the  rank  in  the  school  which  brought  them 
into  closer  contact  with  him,  the  sternness  of  his  character  was  the 
first  thing  that  impressed  them.  In  many,  no  doubt,  this  feeling 
was  one  of  mere  dread,  which,  if  not  subsequently  removed  or 
modified,  only  served  to  repel  those  who  felt  it  to  a  greater  distance 
from  him.  But  in  many  also,  this  was,  even  in  the  earlier  period 
of  their  stay,  mingled  with  an  involuntary  and,  perhaps,  an  uncon- 
scious respect  inspired  by  the  sense  of  the  manliness  and  straight- 
forwardness of  his  dealings,  and  still  more,  by  the  sense  of  the 
general  force  of  his  moral  character ;  by  the  belief  (to  use  the  words 
of  different  pupils)  in  "  his  extraordinary  knack,  for  I  can  call  it 
nothing  else,  of  showing  that  his  object  in  punishing  or  reproving, 
was  not  his  own  good  or  pleasure,  but  that  of  the  boy," — "  in  a 
truthfulness — an  eihxQiveia — a  sort  of  moral  transparency  ;"  in  the 
fixedness  of  his  purpose,  and  "  the  searchingness  of  his  practical  in- 
sight into  boys,"  by  a  consciousness,  almost  amounting  to  solemnity, 
that  "  when  his  eye  was  upon  you,  he  looked  into  your  inmost 
heart ;"  that  there  was  something  in  his  very  tone  and  outward  as- 
pect, before  which  any  thing  low,  or  false,  or  cruel,  instinctively 
quailed  and  cowered. 

And  the  defect  of  occasional  over-hastiness  and  vehemence  of 
expression,  which  during  the  earlier  period  of  his  stay  at  times 
involved  him  in  some  trouble,  did  not  materially  interfere  with 
their  general  notion  of  his  character.  However  mistaken  it  might 
be  in  the  individual  case,  it  was  evident  to  those  who  took  any 
thought  about  it,  that  that  ashy  paleness  and  that  awful  frown 
were  almost  always  the  expression,  not  of  personal  resentment,  but 
of  deep,  ineffable  scorn  and  indignation  at  the  sight  of  vice  and 


LIFE    OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


123 


sin  ;  and  it  was  not  without  its  effect  to  observe,  that  it  was  a  fault 
against  which  he  himself  was  constantly  on  the  watch — and  which, 
in  fact,  was  in  later  years  so  nearly  subdued,  that  most  of  those 
who  had  only  known  him  during  that  time  can  recall  no  instance 
of  it  during  their  stay. 

But  as  boys  advanced  in  the  school,  out  of  this  feeling  of  fear 
"  grew  up  a  deep  admiration,  partaking  largely  of  the  nature  of 
awe,  and  this  softened  into  a  sort  of  loyalty,  which  remained  even 
in  the  closer  and  more  affectionate  sympathy  of  later  years." — "  I 
am  sure,"  writes  a  pupil  who  had  no  personal  communications  with 
him  whilst  at  school,  and  but  little  afterwards,  and  who  never  was 
in  the  Sixth  Form,  "  that  I  do  not  exaggerate  my  feelings  when  I 
say,  that  I  felt  a  love  and  reverence  for  him  as  one  of  quite  awful 
greatness  and  goodness,  for  whom  I  well  remember  that  I  used  to 
think  I  would  gladly  lay  down  my  life  ;"  adding,  with  reference 
to  the  thoughtless  companions  with  whom  he  had  associated, 
"  I  used  to  believe  that  I  too  had  a  Work  to  do  for  him  in  the  school, 
and  I  did  for  his  sake  labour  to  raise  the  tone  of  the  set  I  lived  in, 
particularly  as  regarded  himself."  It  was  in  boys  immediately  be- 
low the  highest  form  that  this  new  feeling  would  usually  rise  for 
the  first  time,  and  awaken  a  strong  wish  to  know  more  of  him. 
Then,  as  they  came  into  personal  contact  with  him,  their  general 
sense  of  his  ability  became  fixed,  in  the  proud  belief  that  they  were 
scholars  of  a  man  who  would  be  not  less  remarkable  to  the  world 
than  he  was  to  themselves ;  and  their  increasing  consciousness  of 
his  own  sincerity  of  purpose,  and  of  the  interest  which  he  took  in 
them,  often  awakened,  even  in  the  careless  and  indifferent,  an  out- 
ward respect  for  goodness,  and  an  animation  in  their  work  before 
unknown  to  them.  And  when  they  left  school,  they  felt  that  they 
had  been  in  an  atmosphere  unlike  that  of  the  world  about  them : 
some  of  those,  who  lamented  not  having  made  more  use  of  his 
teaching  whilst  with  him,  felt  that  "  a  better  thought  than  ordinary 
often  reminded  them  how  he  first  led  to  it ;  and  in  matters  of  lite- 
rature almost  invariably  found,  that  when  any.  idea  of  seeming 
originality  occurred  to  them,  that  its  germ  was  first  suggested  by 
some  remark  of  Arnold," — that  "  still,  to  this  day,  in  reading  the 
Scriptures,  or  other  things,  they  could  constantly  trace  back  a  line 
of  thought  that  came  originally  from  him,  as  from  a  great  parent 
mind."  And  when  they  heard  of  his  death,  they  became  conscious 
— often  for  the  first  time — of  the  large  place  which  he  had  occupied 
in  their  thoughts,  if  not  in  their  affections. 

Such  was  the  case  with  almost  all  who  were  in  the  Sixth  Form 
with  him  during  the  last  ten  years  of  his  life  ;  but  with  some  who, 
from  peculiar  circumstances  of  greater  sympathy  with  him,  came 
into  more  permanent  communication  with  him,  there  was  a  yet 
stronger  bond  of  union.  His  interest  in  his  elder  pupils,  unlike  a 
mere  professional  interest,  seemed  to  increase  after  they  had  left 
the  school.  No  sermons  were  so  full  of  feeling  and  instruction  as 
those  which  he  preached  on  the  eve  of  their  departure  for  the  Uni- 


124  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

versities.  It  was  now  that  the  intercourse  which  at  school  had  been 
so  broken,  and  as  it  were  stolen  by  snatches,  was  at  last  enjoyed 
between  them  to  its  full  extent.  It  was  sometimes  in  the  few  part- 
ing words — the  earnest  blessing  which  he  then  bestowed  upon 
them — that  they  became  for  the  first  time  conscious  of  his  real  care 
and  love  for  them.  The  same  anxiety  for  their  good  which  he 
had  felt  in  their  passage  through  school,  he  now  showed,  without 
the  necessity  of  official  caution  and  reserve,  in  their  passage  through 
life.  To  any  pupil  who  ever  showed  any  desire  to  continue  his 
connexion  with  him,  his  house  was  always  open,  and  his  advice 
and  sympathy  ready.  No  half-year,  after  the  four  first  years  of  his 
stay  at  Rugby,  passed  without  a  visit  from  his  former  scholars : 
some  of  them  would  come  three  or  four  times  a  year  ;  some  would 
stay  in  his  house  for  weeks.  He  would  ofler  to  prepare  them  for 
their  University  examinations  by  previous  examinations  of  his 
own  ;  he  never  shrunk  from  adding  any  of  them  to  his  already  nu- 
merous correspondents,  encouraging  them  to  write  to  him  in  all 
perplexities.  To  any  who  were  in  narrow  circumstances,  not  in 
one  case  but  in  several,  he  would  at  once  offer  assistance,  sometimes 
making  them  large  presents  of  books  on  their  entrance  at  the  Uni- 
versity, sometimes  tendering  them  large  pecuniary  aid,  and  urging 
to  them  that  his  power  of  doing  so  was  exactly  one  of  those  ad- 
vantages of  his  position  which  he  was  most  bound  to  use.  In 
writing  for  the  world  at  large,  they  were  in  his  thoughts, "  in  whose 
welfare,"  he  said,  "  I  naturally  have  the  deepest  interest,  and  in 
whom  old  impressions  may  be  supposed  to  have  still  so  much  force, 
that  I  may  claim  from  them  at  least  a  patient  hearing."  (Serm. 
vol.  iv.  Pref.  p.  lv.)  And  when  annoyed  by  distractions  from  within 
the  school,  or  opposition  from  without,  he  turned,  he  used  to  say,  to 
their  visits  as  "  to  one  of  the  freshest  springs  of  his  life." 

They  on  their  side  now  learned  to  admire  those  parts  of  his 
character  which,  whilst  at  school,  they  had  either  not  known  or 
only  imperfectly  understood.  Pupils  with  characters  most  differ- 
ent from  each  other's,  and  from  his  own — often  with  opinions  di- 
verging more  and  more  widely  from  his  as  they  advanced  in  life — 
looked  upon  him  with  a  love  and  reverence  which  made  his  grati- 
fication one  of  the  brightest  rewards  of  their  academical  studies — 
his  good  or  evil  fame,  a  constant  source  of  interest  and  anxiety  to 
them — his  approbation  and  censure,  amongst  their  most  practical 
motives  of  action — his  example,  one  of  their  most  habitual  rules 
of  life.  To  him  they  turned  for  advice  in  every  emergency  of  life, 
not  so  much  for  the  sake  of  the  advice  itself,  as  because  they  felt 
that  no  important  step  ought  to  be  taken  without  consulting  him. 
An  additional  zest  was  imparted  to  whatever  work  they  were  en- 
gaged in,  by  a  consciousness  of  the  interest  which  he  felt  in  the 
progress  of  their  undertaking,  and  the  importance  which  he  at- 
tached to  its  result.  They  now  felt  the  privilege  of  being  able  to 
ask  him  questions  on  the  many  points  which  his  school  teaching 
had  suggested  without  fully  developing — but  yet  more,  perhaps, 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


125 


they  prized  the  sense  of  his  sympathy  and  familiar  kindness, 
which  made  them  feel  that  they  were  not  only  his  pupils,  but  his 
companions.  That  youthfulness  of  temperament  which  has  been 
before  noticed  in  his  relation  to  boys,  was  still  more  important  in 
his  relation  to  young  men.  All  the  new  influences  which  so  strong- 
ly divide  the  students  of  the  nineteenth  century  from  those  of  the 
last,  had  hardly  less  interest  for  himself  than  for  them ;  and,  after 
the  dulness  or  vexation  of  business  or  of  controversy,  a  visit  of  a 
few  days  to  Rugby  would  remind  them,  (to  apply  a  favourite  im- 
age of  his  own,)  "  how  refreshing  it  is  in  the  depth  of  winter, 
when  the  ground  is  covered  with  snow,  and  all  is  dead  and  lifeless, 
to  walk  by  the  sea-shore,  and  enjoy  the  eternal  freshness  and  live- 
liness of  ocean.  His  very  presence  seemed  to  create  a  new  spring 
of  health  and  vigour  within  them,  and  to  give  to  life  an  interest 
and  an  elevation  which  remained  with  them  long  after  they  had 
left  him  again,  and  dwelt  so  habitually  in  their  thoughts,  as  a  liv- 
ing image,  that,  when  death  had  taken  him  away,  the  bond  appear- 
ed to  be  still  unbroken,  and  the  sense  of  separation  almost  lost  in 
the  still  deeper  sense  of  a  life  and  an  union  indestructible. 


What  were  the  permanent  effects  of  this  system  and  influence, 
is  a  question  which  cannot  yet  admit  of  an  adequate  answer, 
least  of  all  from  his  pupils.  The  mass  of  boys  are,  doubtless,  like 
the  mass  of  men,  incapable  of  receiving  a  deep  and  lasting  impres- 
sion from  any  individual  character,  however  remarkable ;  and  it 
must  also  be  borne  in  mind,  that  hardly  any  of  his  scholars  were 
called  by  rank  or  station  to  take  a  leading  place  in  English  socie- 
ty, where  the  effect  of  his  teaching  and  character,  whatever  it 
might  be  in  itself,  would  have  been  far  more  conspicuous  to  the 
world  at  large. 

He  himself,  though  never  concealing  from  himself  the  impor- 
tance of  his  work,  would  constantly  dwell  on  the  scantiness  of  its 
results.  "  I  came  to  Rugby,"  he  said,  "  full  of  plans  for  school  re- 
form ;  but  1  soon  found  that  the  reform  of  a  public  school  was  a 
much  more  difficult  thing  than  I  had  imagined."  And  again,  "  I 
dread  to  hear  this  called  a  religious  school.  I  know  how  much 
there  is  to  be  done  before  it  can  really  be  called  so." — "  With  re- 
gard to  one's  work,"  he  said,  "  be  it  school  or  parish,  I  suppose  the 
desirable  feeling  to  entertain  is,  always  to  expect  to  succeed,  and 
never  think  that  you  have  succeeded."  He  hardly  ever  seems  to  have 
indulged  in  any  sense  of  superiority  to  the  other  public  schools. 
Eton,  for  example,  he  would  often  defend  against  the  attacks  to 
which  it  was  exposed,  and  the  invidious  comparisons  which  some 
persons  would  draw  between  that  school  and  Rugby.  What 
were  his  feelings  towards  the  improvements  taking  place  there  and 
elsewhere,  after  his  coming  to  Rugby,  have  been  mentioned  alrea- 
dy ;  even  between  the  old  system  and  his  own,  he  rarely  drew  a 


126  LIFE   0P  DR-  ARNOLD. 

strong  distinction,  conscious  though  he  must  have  been  of  the  to- 
tally new  elements  which  he  was  introducing.  The  earliest  let- 
ters from  Rugby  express  an  unfeigned  pleasure  in  what  he  found 
existing,  and  there  is  no  one  disparaging  mention  of  his  predeces- 
sor in  all  the  correspondence,  published  or  unpublished,  that  has 
been  collected  for  this  work. 

If,  however,  the  prediction  of  Dr.  Hawkins  at  his  election,1  has 
been  in  any  way  fulfilled,  the  result  of  his  work  need  not  depend 
on  the  rank,  however  eminent,  to  which  he  raised  Rugby  School ; 
or  the  influence,  however  powerful,  which  he  exercised  over  his 
Rugby  scholars.  And  if  there  be  any  truth  in  the  following  let- 
ter from  Dr.  Moberly,  to  whose  testimony  additional  weight  is  giv- 
en, as  well  by  his  very  wide  difference  of  political  and  ecclesiasti- 
cal opinion,  as  by  his  personal  experience,  first  as  a  scholar  at 
Winchester,  and  an  under-graduate  at  Oxford,  then  as  the  tutor  of 
the  most  flourishing  college  in  that  University,  and  lastly,  in  his 
present  position  as  Head-master  of  Winchester,  it  will  be  felt  that, 
not  so  much  amongst  his  own  pupils,  nor  in  the  scene  of  his  ac- 
tual labours,  as  in  every  Public  School  throughout  England,  is  to 
be  sought  the  chief  and  enduring  monument  of  Dr.  Arnold's 
Head-mastership  at  Rugby. 

EXTRACT    FROM    A    LETTER    OF   DR.  MOBERLY,  HEAD-MASTER    OF  WINCHESTER. 

"  Possibly,"  he  writes,  after  describing  his  own  recollections  as  a  school- 
boy, "  other  schools  may  have  been  less  deep  in  these  delinquencies  than 
Winchester;  I  believe  that  in  many  respects  they  were.  But  I  did  not  find, 
on  going  to  the  University,  that  I  was  under  disadvantages  as  compared 
with  those  who  came  from  other  places ;  on  the  contrary,  the  tone  of  young 
men  at  the  University,  whether  they  came  from  Winchester,  Eton,  Rugby, 
Harrow,  or  wherever  else,  was  universally  irreligious.  A  religious  under- 
graduate was  very  rare,  very  much  laughed  at  when  he  appeared ;  and  I 
think  I  may  confidently  say,  hardly  to  be  found  among  public-school  men ; 
or,  if  this  be  too  strongly  said,  hardly  to  be  found,  except  in  cases  where  pri- 
vate and  domestic  training,  or  good  dispositions,  had  prevailed  over  the 
school  habits  and  tendencies.  A  most  singular  and  striking  change  has 
come  upon  our  public  schools — a  change  too  great  for  any  person  to  appre- 
ciate adequately,  who  has  not  known  them  in  both  these  times.  This 
change  is'  undoubtedly  part  of  a  general  improvement  of  our  generation  in 
respect  of  piety  and  reverence,  but  I  am  sure  that  to  Dr.  Arnold's  personal 
earnest  simplicity  of  purpose,  strength  of  character,  power  of  influence,  and 
piety,  which  none  who  ever  came  near  him  could  mistake  or  question,  the 
carrying  of  this  improvement  into  our  schools  is  mainly  attributable.  He  was 
the  first.  It  soon  began  to  be  matter  of  observation  to  us  in  the  University, 
that  his  pupils  brought  quite  a  different  character  with  them  to  Oxford  than 
that  which  we  knew  elsewhere.  I  do  not  speak  of  opinions;  but  his  pupils 
were  thoughtful,  manly-minded,  conscious  of  duty  and  obligation,  when 
they  first  came  to  college ;  we  regretted,  indeed,  that  they  were  often 
deeply  imbued  with  principles  which  we  disapproved,  but  we  cordially 
acknowledged  the  immense  improvement  in  their  characters  in  respect  of 
morality  and  personal  piety,  and  looked  on  Dr.  Arnold  as  exercising  an 
influence  for  good,  which  (for  how  many  years  I  know  not)  had  been  abso- 
lutely unknown  to  our  public  schools. 

"I  knew  personally  but  little  of  him.  You  remember  the  first  occasion 
on  which  I  ever  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him :  but  I  have  always  felt  and 

«   See  p.  55. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


127 


acknowledged  that  I  owe  more  to  a  few  casual  remarks  of  his  in  respect  of 
the  government  of  a  public  school,  than  to  any  advice  or  example  of  any- 
other  person.  If  there  be  improvement  in  the  important  points  of  which  I 
have  been  speaking  at  Winchester,  (and  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  tes- 
tify with  great  thankfulness  that  the  improvement  is  real  and  great,)  I  do 
declare,  in  justice,  that  his  example  encouraged  me'to  hope  that  it  might  be 
effected,  and  his  hints  suggested  to  me  the  way  of  effecting  it. 

"  I  fear  that  the  reply  which  I  have  been  able  to  make  to  your  question, 
will  hardly  be  so  satisfactory  as  you  expected,  as  it  proceeds  so  entirely  upon 
my  own  observations  and  inferences.  At  the  same  time  I  have  had,  per- 
haps, unusual'opportunity  for  forming  an  opinion,  having  been  six  years  at 
a  public  school  at  the  time  of  their  being  at  the  lowest, — having  then  min- 
gled with  young  men  from  other  schools  at  the  University,  having  had 
many  pupils  from  the  different  schools,  and  among  them  several  of  Dr.  Ar- 
nold's most  distinguished  ones ;  and  at  last,  having  had  near  eight  years' 
experience,  as  the  master  of  a  school  which  has  undergone  in  great  measure 
the  very  alteration  which  I  have  been  speaking  of.  Moreover,  I  have  often 
said  the  very  things,  which  I  have  here  written,  in  the  hearing  of  men  of  all 
sorts,  and  have  never  found  any  body  disposed  to  contradict  them. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Stanley, 

Yours  most  faithfully, 

George  Moberly." 


CHAPTER  IV, 


GENERAL  LIFE  AT  RUGBY. 

It  was  natural  that  with  the  wider  range  of  duty,  and  the  more 
commanding  position  which  Dr.  Arnold's  new  station  gave  him, 
there  should  have  been  a  new  stage  in  his  character  and  views, 
hardly  less  marked  intellectually,  than  that  which  accompanied  his 
change  from  Oxford  to  Laleham  had  been  morally.  The  several 
subjects  of  thought,  which  more  or  less  he  had  already  entertained, 
especially  during  the  two  or  three  preceding  years,  now  fell  rapidly 
one  by  one  into  their  proper  places.  Ready  as  he  still  was  to  take 
the  advice  of  his  friends  in  practice,  his  opinions  now  took  a  more 
independent  course ;  and  whatever  subsequent  modification  they 
underwent,  came  not  from  without  but  from  within.  Whilst  he 
became  more  and  more  careful  to  reconcile  his  own  views  with 
those,  whom,  in  ages  past  or  present,  he  reverenced  as  really  great 
men,  the  circle  within  which  he  bestowed  his  veneration  became 
far  more  exclusive.  The  purely  practical  element  sank  into  greater 
subordination  to  the  more  imaginative  and  philosophical  tendencies 
of  his  mind  ; — in  works  of  poetical  or  speculative  genius,  which  at 
an  earlier  period  he  had  been  inclined  to  depreciate,  he  now,  looking 
at  them  from  another  point  of  view,  took  an  increasing  delight. 
Even  within  the  letters  of  the  first  year  there  is  a  marked  altera- 
tion down  to  the  very  form  of  his  handwriting,  and  the  very  mode 
of  addressing  his  friends.  The  character  which  has  already  been 
given  of  his  boyish  verses  at  Oxford,  becomes  less  and  less  appli- 
cable to  the  simple  and  touching  fragments  of  poetry  in  which 
from  time  to  time  he  expressed  the  feelings  of  his  later  years.  The 
change  of  style  of  his  published  writings  from  the  baldness  of  his 
earlier  works  to  the  vigorous  English  of  his  mature  age,  indicates 
the  corresponding  impulse  given  to  his  powers,  and  the  greater  free- 
dom and  variety  of  his  new  range  of  thought. 

With  his  entrance,  therefore,  on  his  work  at  Rugby,  his  public 
life,  (if  it  may  so  be  called,)  no  less  than  his  professional  life,  prop- 
erly begins.  But  what  was  true  of  the  effect  of  his  own  character 
in  his  sphere  as  a  teacher,  is  hardly  less  true  of  it  in  his  sphere  as 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  129 

an  author.  His  works  were  not  merely  the  inculcations  of  partic- 
ular truths,  but  the  expression  of  his  whole  mind  ;  and  excited  in 
those  who  read  them  a  sentiment  almost  of  personal  regard  or  of 
personal  dislike,  as  the  case  might  be,  over  and  above  the  approba- 
tion or  disapprobation  of  the  opinions  which  they  contained.  Like 
himself,  they  partook  at  once  of  a  practical  and  speculative  charac- 
ter, which  exposed  them,  like  himself,  to  considerable  misapprehen- 
sion. On  the  one  hand,  even  the  most  permanent  of  them  seemed 
to  express  the  feeling  of  the  hour  which  dictated  them.  On  the 
other  hand,  even  the  most  transitory  seemed  to  express  no  less  the 
fixed  ideas,  by  which  his  whole  life  was  regulated  ;  and  it  may  be 
worth  while,  therefore,  in  regard  to  both  these  aspects,  without 
descending  into  the  details  and  circumstances  of  each  particular 
work,  which  the  ensuing  correspondence  will  of  itself  sufficiently 
describe,  to  offer  briefly  a  few  remarks  which  may  serve  as  a  pre- 
face to  all  of  them. 

I.  Greatly  as  his  practical  turn  of  mind  was  modified  in  his 
later  years,  and  averse  as  he  always  was  to  what  are  technically 
called  "  practical  men,"  yet,  in  the  sense  of  having  no  views,  how- 
ever high,  which  he  did  not  labour  to  bring  into  practice  sooner  or 
later,  he  remained  eminently  practical  to  the  end  of  his  life.  "  I 
always  think,"  he  used  to  say,  "  of  that  magnificent  sentence  of 
Bacon,  '  In  this  world,  God  only  and  the  angels  may  be  specta- 
tors.'" "Stand  still,  and  see  the  salvation  of  God,"  he  observed  in 
allusion  to  Dr.  Pusey's  celebrated  sermon  on  that  passage,  "  was 
true  advice  to  Ihe  Israelites  on  the  shores  of  the  Red  Sea ;  but  it 
was  not  the  advice  which  is  needed  in  ordinary  circumstances ; 
it  would  have  been  false  advice  when  they  were  to  conquer  Ca- 
naan." "  I  cannot,"  he  said,  "  enter  fully  into  these  lines  of  Words- 
worth— 

'  Tome  the  meanest  flower  that  breathes  can  give 
Thoughts  thai  do  often  lie  too  deep  for  tears.' 

There  is  to  me  something  in  them  of  a  morbid  feeling — life  is  not 
long  enough  to  take  such  intense  interest  in  objects  themselves  so 
little.  Secluded  as  he  was,  both  by  his  occupations  and  his  domestic 
habits,  from  contact  with  the  world,  even  more  than  most  men  in 
his  station,  yet  the  interest  with  which,  now  more  than  ever,  he 
entered  into  public  affairs,  was  such  as  can  rarely  be  felt  by  men 
not  actually  engaged  in  the  government  of  the  country.  The  life 
of  a  nation,  he  said,  was  to  him  almost  as  distinct  as  that  of  an 
individual ;  and  whatever  might  be  his  habitual  subjects  of  public 
interest, — the  advance  of  political  and  social  reform, — the  questions 
of  peace  and  war, — the  sufferings  of  the  poorer  classes, — the  growth 
of  those  rising  commonwealths  in  the  Australian  colonies,  where, 
from  time  to  time,  he  entertained  an  ardent  desire  to  pass  the  close 
of  his  life,  in  the  hope  of  influencing,  if  possible,  what  he  conceived 
to  be  the  germs  of  the  future  destinies  of  England  and  of  the  world, 
— came  before  him  with  a  vividness  which  seemed  to  belong  rather 


130  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

to  a  citizen  of  Greece-  or  Rome,  than  to  the  comparative  apathy  and 
retirement  of  the  members  of  modern  states. 

It  was  of  course  only  or  chiefly  through  his  writings,  that  he 
could  hope  to  act  on  the  country  at  large  ;  and  they  accordingly, 
almost  all,  became  inseparably  bound  up  with  the  course  of  public 
events.  They  were  not,  in  fact,  so  much  words  as  deeds  ;  not  so 
much  the  result  of  an  intention  to  instruct,  as  of  an  incontrollable 
desire  to  give  vent  to  the  thoughts  that  were  struggling  within  him. 
"  I  have  a  testimony  to  deliver,"  was  the  motive  which  dictated 
almost  all  of  them.  "  I  must  write  or  die,"  was  an  expression  which 
he  used  more  than  once  in  times  of  great  public  interest,  and  which 
was  hardly  too  strong  to  describe  what  he  felt.  If  he  was  editing 
Thucydides,  it  was  with  the  thought  that  he  was  engaged,  "  not 
on  an  idle  inquiry  about  remote  ages  and  forgotten  institutions,  but 
a  living  picture  of  things  present,  fitted  not  so  much  for  the  curiosity 
of  the  scholar,  as  for  the  instruction  of  the  statesman  and  the  citi- 
zen." (Pref.  vol.  iii.  p.  xxii.)  If  he  felt  himself  called  upon  to  write 
the  History  of  Rome,  one  chief  reason  was,  because  it  "  could  be 
understood  by  none  so  well  as  by  those  who  have  grown  up  under 
the  laws,  who  have  been  engaged  in  the  parties,  who  are  them- 
selves citizens  of  our  kingly  commonwealth  of  England."  (Pref.  vol. 
i.  p.  vii.)  If  he  was  anxious  to  set  on  foot  a  Commentary  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, it  was  mostly  at  times,  when  he  was  struck  by  the  reluctance 
or  incapacity  of  the  men  of  his  own  generation  to  apply  to  their 
own  social  state  the  warnings  of  the  Apostles  and  Prophets.  If  he 
was  desirous  of  maintaining  against  the  Oxford  school  his  own 
views  of  the  Church,  it  was  that,  "  when  he  looked  at  the  social 
condition  of  his  countrymen,"  he  "  could  not  doubt  that  here  was 
the  work  for  the  Church  of  Christ  to  do,  that  none  else  could  do  it, 
and  that  with  the  blessing  of  her  Almighty  Head  she  could." 
(Serm.  vol.  iv.  Pref.  p.  cxv.) 

It  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  wondered  at,  if  that  impatience  of 
present  evil,  which  belonged  alike  to  his  principles  and  his  dispo- 
sition, appeared  in  his  writings,  and  imparted  to  them — often,  pro- 
bably, unknown  to  himself— something,  if  not  of  a  polemical  aspect, 
at  least  of  an  attitude  of  opposition  and  attack,  averse  though  he 
was  himself  to  controversy,  and  carefully  avoiding  it  with  those 
whom  he  knew  personally,  even  when  frequently  challenged  to 
enter  upon  it.  "  The  wisdom  of  winter  is  the  folly  of  spring,"  was 
a  maxim  with  him,  which  would  often  explain  changes  of  feeling 
and  expression  that  to  many  might  seem  inconsistencies.  "  If  I 
were  living  in  London,"  he  said,  "  I  should  not  talk  against  the  evil 
tendencies  of  the  clergy,  any  more  than  if  I  were  living  in  Oxford 
I  should  talk  against  the  evil  tendencies  of  the  political  economists. 
It  is  my  nature  always  to  attack  that  evil  which  seems  to  me  most 
present."  It  was  thus  a  favourite  topic,  in  his  exposition  of  Scrip- 
tire,  to  remark  how  the  particular  sins  of  the  occasion  were  de- 
nt need,  the  particular  forms  of  Antichrist  indicated  often  without 
the  qualification,  which  would  have  been  required  by  the  pres- 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  13| 

ence  of  the  opposite  danger.  "  Contrast,"  he  used  to  say,  "  the  lan- 
guage of  the  first  chapter  of  Isaiah,  when  the  hierarchy  of  Judah 
was  in  its  full  pride  and  power,  with  the  language  of  the  second 
chapter  of  Malachi,  when  it  was  in  a  state  of  decline  and  neglect." 

Connected  with  this,  was  the  peculiar  vehemence  of  language, 
which  he  often  used,  in  speaking  of  the  subjects  and  events  of  the 
day.  This  was  indeed  partly  to  be  accounted  for  by  his  eagerness 
to  speak  out  whatever  was  in  his  mind,  especially  when  moved  by 
his  keen  sense  of  what  he  thought  evil — partly  by  the  natural  sim- 
plicity of  his  mode .  of  speech,  which  led  him  to  adopt  phrases  in 
their  simplest  sense,  without  stopping  to  explain  them,  or  suspecting 
that  they  would  be  misunderstood.  But  with  regard  to  public  prin- 
ciples and  parties,  it  was  often  more  than  this.  With  every  wish 
to  be  impartial,  yet  his  natural  temperament,  as  he  used  himself  to 
acknowledge,  made  it  difficult  for  him  to  place  himself  completely 
in  another's  point  of  view  ;  and  thus  he  had  a  tendency  to  judge 
individuals,  with  whom  he  had  no  personal  acquaintance,  from  his 
conception  of  the  party  to  which  they  belonged,  and  to  look  at  both 
through  the  medium  of  that  strong  power  of  association,  which 
influenced  materially  his  judgment,  not  only  of  events,  but  of  men, 
and  even  of  places.  Living  individuals,  therefore,  and  existing 
principles,  became  lost  to  his  view  in  the  long  line  of  images,  past 
and  future,  in  which  they  only  formed  one  link.  Every  political 
or  ecclesiastical  movement  suggested  to  him  the  recollection  of  its 
historical  representative  in  past  times, — and  yet  more,  as  by  an  in- 
stinct, half  religious  and  half  historical,  the  thought  of  what  he 
conceived  to  be  the  prototypes  of  the  various  forms  of  error  and 
wickedness  denounced  by  the  Prophets  in  the  Old  Testament,  or 
by  our  Lord  and  his  Apostles  in  the  New.  And  looking  not  back- 
wards only,  but  forwards,  to  their  remotest  consequences,  and  again 
guiding  himself,  as  he  thought,  by  the  example  of  the  language  of 
St.  Paul,  who  ;' seemed  to  have  had  his  eye  fixed  in  vision  rather 
upon  the  full-grown  evil  of  later  times,- than  upon  the  first  imper- 
fect show — the  faint  indications  of  it — in  his  own  time,"  (Serm. 
vol.  v.  p.  346,)  he  saw  in  them  the  germs  of  mischief  yet  to  come, 
— not  only  the  mischief  of  their  actual  triumph,  but  the  mischief  of 
the  reaction  against  them. 

There  was  besides  a  peculiar  importance  attaching,  in  his  view, 
to  political  questions,  with  which  every  reader  of  his  works  must 
be  familiar.  The  life  of  the  commonwealth  is  to  him  the  main 
subject  of  history — the  laws  of  political  science,  the  main  lesson  of 
history — "  the  desire  of  taking  an  active  share  in  the  great  work  of 
government,  the  highest  earthly  desire  of  the  ripened  mind."  And 
those  who  read  his  letters  will  be  startled  at  times  by  the  interest 
with  which  he  watches  the  changes  of  administration,  where  to 
many  the  real  difference  would  seem  to  be  comparatively  trifling. 
Thus  he  would  speak  of  a  ministry  advocating  even  good  mea- 
sures inconsistently  with  their  position  or  principles,  "  as  a  daily 
painfullness — a  moral  east  wind,  which  made  him  feel  uncomfort- 


132  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

able  without  any  particular  ailment" — or  lament  the  ascendency  of 
false  political  views,  as  tending  "  to  the  sure  moral  degradation  of 
the  whole  community,  and  the  ultimate  social  disorganization  of 
our  system,"  "  not  from  reading  the  Morning  Chronicle  or  the  Ed- 
inburgh Review,  but  from  reading  the  Bible  and  Aristotle,  and  all 
history." 

Such  expressions  as  these  must  indeed  be  taken  with  the  ne- 
cessary qualifications  which  belong  to  all  words  spoken  to  intimate 
friends  in  a  period  of  great  excitement.  But  they  may  serve  to 
illustrate  at  least  the  occasional  strength  of  feeling  which  it  is  the 
object  of  these  remarks  to  explain.  It  arose,  no  doubt,  in  part  from 
his  tendency  to  view  all  things  in  a  practical  and  concrete  form, 
and  in  part  from  his  belief  of  the  large  power  possessed  by  the 
supreme  governors  of  society  over  the  social  and  moral  condition 
of  those  intrusted  to  them.  But  there  were  also  real  principles 
present  to  his  mind  whenever  he  thus  spoke,  which  seemed  to  him 
so  certain,  that  "  daily  experience  could  hardly  remove  his  wonder 
at  finding  that  they  .did  not  appear  so  to  others."  (Mod.  Hist. 
Lect.,  p.  391.)  What  these  principles  were  in  detail,  his  own  let- 
ters will  sufficiently  show.  But  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  how, 
whilst  he  certainly  believed  that  they  were  exemplified  to  a  great 
degree  in  the  actual  state  of  English  politics,  the  meaning  which 
he  attached  to  them  rose  so  far  above  their  meaning  as  commonly 
used,  that  it  could  hardly  be  thought  that  the  same  subject  was 
spoken  of.  Conservatism,  in  his  mouth,  was  not  merely  the  watch- 
word of  an  English  party,  but  the  symbol  of  an  evil,  against  which 
his  whole  life,  public  and  private,  was  one  continued  struggle ; 
which  he  dreaded  in  his  own  heart,  no  less  than  in  the  institutions 
of  his  country,  and  his  abhorrence  of  which  will  be  found  to  per- 
vade not  only  the  pamphlets  which  have  been  most  condemned, 
but  the  sermons  which  have  been  most  admired,  namely,  the  spirit 
of  resistance  to  all  change.  Jacobinism,  again,  in  his  use  of  the 
word,  included  not  only  the  extreme  movement  party  in  France  or 
England,  to  which  he  usually  applied  it,  but  all  the  natural  ten- 
dencies of  mankind,  whether  "  democratical,  priestly,  or  chival- 
rous," to  oppose  the  .authority  of  Law,  divine  and  human,  which  he 
regarded  with  so  deep  a  reverence.  Popular  principles  and  de- 
mocracy (when  he  used  these  words  in  a  good  sense)  were  not  the 
opposition  to  an  hereditary  monarchy  or  peerage,  which  he  always 
valued  as  precious  elements  of  national  life,  but  were  inseparably 
blended  with  his  strong  belief  in  the  injustice  and  want  of  sympathy 
generally  shown  by  the  higher  to  the  lower  orders, — a  belief  which 
he  often  declared  had  been  first  brought  home  to  him.  when  after 
having,  as  a  young  man  at  Oxford,  held  the  opposite  view,  he  first 
began  seriously  to  study  the  language  used  with  regard  to  it  by  St. 
James  and  the  Old  Testament  Prophets.  Liberal  principles  were 
not  merely  the  expression  of  his  adherence  to  a  Whig  ministry, 
but  of  his  belief  in  the  constant  necessity  of  applying  those  prin- 
ciples of  advance  and  reform,  which,  in  their  most  perfect  develop- 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


133 


ment,  he  conceived  to  be  identical  with  Christianity  itself.  Even 
in  their  lower  exemplifications,  and  in  every  age  of  the  world 
except  that  before  the  Fall  of  man  from  Paradise,  he  maintained 
them  to  have  been,  by  the  very  constitution  of  human  society,  the 
representatives  of  the  cause  of  wisdom  and  goodness.  And  this 
truth,  no  less  certain  in  his  judgment  than  the  ordinary  deductions 
of  natural  theology,  he  believed  to  have  been  placed  on  a  still 
firmer  basis  by  the  higher  standard  held  out  in  the  Christian  reli- 
gion, and  the  revelation  of  a  moral  law,  which  no  intermixture  of 
races  or  change  of  national  customs  could  possibly  endanger. 

That  he  was  not,  in  the  common  sense  of  the  word,  a  member 
of  any  party,  is  best  shown  by  the  readiness  with  which  all  parties 
alike,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  times,  claimed  or  renounced 
him  as  an  associate.  Ecclesiastically,  he  neither  belonged,  nor  felt 
himself  to  belong,  to  any  of  the  existing  sections  of  the  English 
clergy ;  and  from  the  so-called  High  Church,  Low  Church,  and 
Evangelical  bodies,  he  always  stood,  not  perhaps  equally,  but  yet 
decidedly  aloof.  Politically,  indeed,  he  held  himself  to  be  a  strong 
Whig  ;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  found  that  in  cases  of  practical 
co-operation  with  that  party,  he  differed  almost  as  much  from  them 
as  from  their  opponents ;  and  would  often  confess  with  sorrow, 
that  there  were  none  among  them  who  realized  what  seemed  to 
him  their  true  principles.  And  whilst  in  later  years  his  feelings 
and  language  on  these  subjects  were  somewhat  modified,  he  at 
all  times,  even  when  most  tenaciously  holding  to  his  opinions, 
maintained  the  principle,  that  "  political  truths  are  not,  like  moral 
truths,  to  be  held  as  absolutely  certain,  nor  ever  wholly  identical  with 
the  professions  or  practice  of  any  party  or  individual."  (Pref.  to 
Hist,  of  Rome,  vol.  i.  p.  xi.)  There  were  few  warnings  to  his  pu- 
pils on  the  entrance  into  life  more  solemn,  than  those  against  party- 
spirit,  against  giving  to  any  human  party,  sect,  society,  or  cause, 
that  undivided  sympathy  and  service  whiph  he  held  to  be  due  only 
to  the  one  party  and  cause  of  all  good  men  under  their  Divine 
Head.1  There  were  few  more  fervent  aspirations  for  his  children, 
than  that  with  which  he  closes  a  letter  in  1833  :  "  May  God  grant 
to  my  sons,  if  they  live  to  manhood,  an  unshaken  love  of  truth, 
and  a  firm  resolution  to  follow  it  for  themselves,  with  an  intense 
abhorrence  of  all  party  ties,  save  that  one  tie,  which  binds  them  to 
the  party  of  Christ  against  wickedness." 

II.  But  no  temporary  interest  or  excitement  was  allowed  to 
infringe  on  the  loftiness  or  the  unity  of  his  ultimate  ends,  to  which 
every  particular  plan  that  he  took  up,  and  every  particular  line  of 
thought  which  he  followed,  was  completely  subordinate.  How- 
ever open  to  objection  may  have  been  many  of  his  practical  sug- 
gestions, it  must  be  remembered,  that  they  were  never  the  result  of 
accidental  fancies,  but  of  fixed  and  ruling  ideas.  However  fertile 
he  might  be  in  supplying  details  when  called  for,  it  was  never  on 

1   See  Sermon  on  "  Who  are  partakers  in  our  hope  1"  vol.  iii. 


134  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

them,  but  on  principles,  that  he  rested  his  claim  to  be  heard  ;  often 
and  often  he  declared  that  if  these  could  be  received  and  acted 
upon,  he  cared  nothing  for  the  particular  applications  of  them,  which 
he  might  have  proposed,  and  nothing  for  the  failure  of  particular 
schemes,  if  he  could  hope  that  his  example  would  excite  others  to 
execute  them  better. 

Striving  to  fulfil  in  his  measure  the  definition  of  man,  in  which 
he  took  especial  pleasure,  "  a  being  of  large  discourse,  looking  be- 
fore and  after,"  he  learned  more  and  more,  whilst  never  losing  his 
hold  on  the  present,  to  live  also  habitually  in  the  past  and  for  the 
future.  Vehement  as  he  was  in  assailing  evil,  his  whole  mind  was 
essentially  not  destructive  but  constructive  ;  his  love  of  reform  was 
in  exact  proportion  to  his  love  of  the  institutions  which  he  wished 
to  reform  ;  his  hatred  of  shadows  in  exact  proportion  to  his  love  of 
realities.  "  He  was  an  idoloclast,"  says  Archdeacon  Hare,  "  at 
once  zealous  and  fearless  in  demolishing  the  reigning  idols,  and  at 
the  same  time  animated  with  a  reverent  love  for  the  ideas  which 
those  idols  carnalize  and  stifle."  Impatient  as  he  was,  even  to  rest- 
lessness, of  evils  which  seemed  to  him  capable  of  remedy,  he  yet 
was  ready,  as  some  have  thought  even  to  excess,  to  repose  with  the 
most  undoubting  confidence  on  what  he  held  to  be  a  general  law. 
"  Ah,"  he  said,  speaking  to  a  friend  of  the  parable  of  the  "earth,  of 
herself,  bringing  forth  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  then  the  full 
corn  in  the  ear," — "  how  much  there  is  in  those  words  :  I  hope  some 
day  to  be  able  to  work  at  them  thoroughly."  "  We  walk  by  faith 
and  not  by  sight."  was  a  truth  on  which  in  its  widest  sense  he  en- 
deavoured to  dwell  alike  in  his  private  and  public  relations, — alike 
in  practice  and  in  speculation.  "You  know  you  do  what  God 
does,"  was  his  answer  to  an  expression  of  a  painful  sense  of  the 
increase  of  a  child's  responsibility  by  an  early  Christian  education. 
"  We  may  be  content,  1  think,  to  share  the  responsibility  with 
Christ."  And  on  more  general  subjects,  "We  must  brace  our 
minds,"  he  said,  in  an  unpublished  sermon,  "  We  must  brace  our 
minds  to  the  full  extent  of  that  great  truth — that  '  no  man  hath 
seen  God  at  any  time ;'  still  amidst  outward  darkness  and  inward, 
— amidst  a  world  going  on,  as  it  seems,  in  its  own  course,  with  no 
other  laws  than  those  which  God  has  given  to  nature, — amidst 
all  the  doubts  and  perplexities  of  our  own  hearts — the  deepest  dif- 
ficulties sitting  hard  beside  the  most  blessed  truths — still  we  must 
seek  after  the  Lord  with  unabated  faith  if  so  be  that  we  may  find 
him."  It  was  not  that  he  was  not  conscious  of  difficulties — but 
that  (to  apply  his  own  words)  "before  a  confessed  and  unconquer- 
able difficulty  his  mind  reposed  as  quietly  as  in  possession  of  a  dis- 
covered truth." 

His  time  for  reading  at  Laleham  and  Rugby  was  necesarily 
limited  by  his  constant  engagements — but  his  peculiar  habits  and 
turn  of  mind  enabled  him  to  accomplish  much,  which  to  others  in 
similar  circumstances  would  have  been  impossible.  He  had  a  re- 
markable facility  for  turning  to  account  spare  fragments  of  time — 


LIFE   OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


135 


for  appropriating  what  he  casually  heard,  and  for  mastering  the 
contents  of  a  book  by  a  very  rapid  perusal.  His  memory  was  ex- 
ceedingly retentive  of  all  subjects  in  which  he  took  any  interest ; 
and  the  studies  of  his  youth — especially  of  what  he  used  to  call 
the  "  golden  time  "  between  his  degree  and  his  leaving  Oxford — 
were  perpetually  supplying  him  with  materials  for  his  later  labours. 
The  custom  which  he  then  began,  of  referring  at  once  to  the  sources 
and  original  documents  of  history,  as  in  Rymer,  Montfaucon,  and. 
the  Sum  ma  Conciliorum,  gave  a  lasting  freshness  and  solidity  to 
his  knowledge  ;  and,  instead  of  merely  exchanging  his  later  for 
his  earlier  acquisitions,  the  one  seemed  to  be  a  natural  development 
of  the  other. 

Whenever  a  new  line  of  study  was  opened  to  him,  he  fear- 
lessly followed  it ;  a  single  question  would  often  cost  him  much 
research  in  books  for  which  he  naturally  cared  but  little  ;  for  phi- 
lological purposes,  he  was  endeavouring  even  in  his  latest  years  to 
acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  Sanscrit  and  Sclavonic  languages ;  he 
was  constantly  engaged  in  correspondence  with  scientific  men  or 
scholars  on  minute  points  of  history  or  geography ;  in  theology  he 
had  almost  always  on  hand  one  of  the  early  Christian  writers,  with 
a  view  to  the  ultimate  completion  of  his  great  work  on  Church  and 
State.  He  had  a  great  respect  for  learning,  though  impatient  of 
the  pretensions  to  the  name  often  made  by  a  mere  amount  of  read- 
ing ;  and  the  standard  of  what  was  required  in  order  to  treat  of 
any  subject  fully,  was  perpetually  rising  before  him.  It  would 
often  happen,  from  the  necessity  of  the  case,  that  his  works  were 
written  in  haste,  and  were  therefore  sometimes  expressed  nakedly 
and  abruptly.  But  it  would  be  great  injustice  to  infer  from  the 
unblotted,  unrevised  manuscript,  which  went  to  the  press  as  it  came 
from  his  pen,  that  it  was  not  the  result  of  much  thought  and  read- 
ing ;  although  he  hardly  ever  corrected  what  he  had  once  written, 
yet  he  often  approached  the  same  subject  in  various  forms ;  the 
substance  of  every  paragraph  had,  as  he  often  said,  been  in  his 
mind  for  years,  and  sometimes  had  been  actually  written  at  greater 
length  or  in  another  shape  ; — his  sense  of  deficient  knowledge  often 
deterred  him  from  publishing  on  subjects  of  the  greatest  interest  to 
him :  he  always  made  it  a  point  to  read  far  more  than  he  ex- 
pressed in  writing,  and  to  write  much  which  he  never  gave  to  the 
world. 

What  he  actually  achieved  in  his  works  falls  so  far  short  of 
what  he  intended  to  achieve,  that  it  seems  almost  like  an  injustice 
to  judge  of  his  aims  and  views  by  them.  Yet,  even  in  what  he 
had  already  published  in  his  lifetime,  he  was  often  the  first  to  de- 
lineate in  outline  what  others  may  hereafter  fill  up ;  the  first  to 
give  expression  in  England  to  views  which,  on  the  continent,  had 
been  already  attained  ;  the  first  to  propose,  amidst  obloquy  or  indif- 
ference, measures  and  principles,  which  the  rapid  advance  of  public 
opinion  has  so  generally  adopted,  as  almost  to  obliterate  the  remem- 
brance of  those  who  first  gave  utterance  to  them.     And  those,  who 


136 


LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


know  the  intentions  which  were  interrupted  by  his  premature  death, 
will  form  their  notion  of  what  he  was  as  an  historian,  philosopher,  and 
theologian,  not  so  much  from  the  actual  writings  which  he  lived 
to  complete,  as  from  the  design  of  the  three  great  works,  to  which 
he  looked  forward  as  the  labours  of  his  latest  years,  and  which,  as 
belonging  not  more  to  one  period  of  his  life  than  another,  and  as 
forming,  even  in  his  mere  conception  of  them,  the  centres  of  all 
that  he  thought  or  wrote,  on  whatever  subject,  would  have  fur- 
nished the  key  to  all  hjs  views— a  History  of  Rome,  a  Commentary 
on  the  New  Testament,  and,  in  some  sense  including  both  of 
these  within  itself,  a  Treatise  on  Church  and  State,  or  Christian 
Politics. 

1.  His  early  fondness  for  history  grew  constantly  upon  him  ;  he 
delighted-  in  it,  as  feeling  it  to  be  "  simply  a  search  after  truth, 
where,  by  daily  becoming  more  familiar  with  it,  truth  seems  for 
ever  more  within  your  grasp  :"  the  images  of  the  past  were  habit- 
ually in  his  mind,  and  haunted  him  even  in  sleep  with  a  vividness, 
which  would  bring  before  him  some  of  the  most  striking  passages 
in  ancient  history— the  death  of  Caesar,  the  wars  of  Sylla,  the 
siege  of  Syracuse,  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem— as  scenes  in  which 
he  was  himself  taking  an  active  part.  What  objects  he  put  before 
him,  as  an  historian,  may  best  be  judged  from  his  own  view  of  the 
province  of  history.  It  was,  indeed,  altogether  imperfect,  in  his 
judgment,  unless  it  was  not  only  a  plan  but  a  picture ;  unless  it 
represented  "  what  men  thought,  what  they  hated,  and  what  they 
loved  ;"  unless  it  "  pointed  the  way  to  that  higher  region,  within 
which  she  herself  is  not  permitted  to  enter  ;'"  and  in  the  details  of 
geographical  or  military  descriptions  he  took  especial  pleasure,  and 
himself  remarkably  excelled  in  them.  Still  it  was  in  the  dramatic 
faculty  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  metaphysical  faculty  on  the  other 
hand,  that  he  felt  himself  deficient ;  and  it  is  accordingly  in  the 
political  rather  than  the  philosophical  and  biographical  department 
of  history, — in  giving  a  combined  view  of  different  states  or  of  dif- 
ferent periods— m  analyzing  laws,  parties,  and  institutions,  that  his 
chief  merit  consists. 

What  were  his  views  of  Modern  History  will  appear  in  the 
mention  of  his  Oxford  Professorship.  But  it  was  in  ancient  history 
that  he  naturally  felt  the  greatest  delight.  "  I  linger  round  a  sub- 
ject, which  nothing  could  tempt  me  to  quit  but  the  consciousness 
of  treating  it  too  unworthily,"  were  his  expressions  of  regret,  when 
he  had  finished  his  edition  of  Thucydides  ;  "  the  subject  of.  what  is 
miscalled  ancient  history,  the  really  modern  history  of  the  civili- 
zation of  Greece  and  Rome,  which  has  for  years  interested  me  so 
deeply,  that  it  is  painful  to  feel  myself,  after  all,  so  unable  to  paint 
it  fully."  His  earliest  labours  had  been  devoted  not  to  Roman,  but 
to  Greek  history ;  and  there  still  remains  amongst  his  MSS.  a  short 
sketch  of  the  rise  of  the  Greek  nation,  written  between  1820  and 

1  History  of  Rome,  vol.  i.  p.  98 ;  vol.  ii.  p.  173. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


137 


1823,  and  carried  down  to  the  time  of  the  Persian  wars.  And  in 
later  years,  his  edition  of  Thucydides,  undertaken  originally  with 
the  design  of  illustrating  that  author  rather  historically  than  philo- 
logically,  contains  in  its  notes  and  appendices,  the  most  systematic 
remains  of  his  studies  in  this  direction,  and  at  one  time  promised 
to  embody  his  thoughts  on  the  most  striking  periods  of  Athenian 
history.  Nor,  after  he  had  abandoned  this  design,  did  he  ever  lose 
his  interest  in  the  subject ;  his  real  sympathies  (if  one  may  venture 
to  say  so)  were  always  with  Athens  rather  than  with  Rome  ;  some 
of  the  most  characteristic  points  of  his  mind  were  Greek  rather  than 
Roman ;  from  the  vacancy  of  the  early  Roman  annals  he  was  for 
ever  turning  to  the  contemporary  records  of  the  Greek  common- 
wealths, to  pay  "  an  involuntary  tribute  of  respect  and  affection  to 
old  associations  and  immortal  names,  on  which  we  can  scarcely 
dwell  too  long  or  too  often ;"  the  falsehood  and  emptiness  of  the 
Latin  historians  were  for  ever  suggesting  the  contrast  of  their  Gre- 
cian rivals  ;  the  two  opposite  poles  in  which  he  seemed  to  realize 
his  ideas  of  the  worst  and  the  best  qualities  of  an  historian,  with 
feelings  of  personal  antipathy  and  sympathy  towards  each,  were 
Livy  and  Thucydides.  ' 

Even  these  scattered  notices  of  what  he  had  once  hoped  to  have 
worked  out  more  fully,  will  often  furnish  the  student  of  Greek  his- 
tory with  the  means  of  entering  upon  its  most  remarkable  epochs 
under  his  guidance.  Those  who  have  carefully  read  his  works, 
or  shared  his  instructions,  can  still  enjoy  the  light  which  he  has 
thrown  on  the  rise  and  progress  of  the  Greek  commonwealths,  and 
their  analogy  with  the  States  of  Modern  Europe ;  and  apply,  in 
their  manifold  relations,  the  principles  which  he  has  laid  down 
with  regard  to  the  peculiar  ideas  attached  in  the  Greek  world  to 
race,  to  citizenship,  and  to  law.  They  can  still  catch  the  glow  of 
almost  passionate  enthusiasm,  with  which  he  threw  himself  into 
the  age  of  Pericles,  and  the  depth  of  emotion  with  which  he  watch- 
ed, like  an  eye-witness,  the  failure  of  the  Syracusan  expedition. 
They  can  still  trace  the  almost  personal  sympathy  with  which  he 
entered  into  the  great  crisis  of  Greek  society,  when  "  Socrates,  the 
faithful  servant  of  truth  and  virtue,  fell  a  victim  to  the  hatred  alike 
of  the  democratical  and  aristocratical  vulgar ;"  when  "  all  that  auda- 
city can  dare,  or  subtlety  contrive,  to  make  the  words  of  '  good  '  and 
'  evil '  change  their  meaning,  was  tried  in  the  days  of  Plato,  and 
by  his  eloquence,  and  wisdom,  and  faith  unshaken,  was  put  to 
shame."  They  can  well  imagine  the  intense  admiration,  with 
which  he  would  have  dwelt,  in  detail,  on  what  he  has  now  left 
only  in  faint  outline  : — Alexander  at  Babylon  impressed  him  as  one 
of  the  most  solemn  scenes  in  all  history  ;  the  vision  of  Alexander's 
career,  even  to  the  lively  image  which  he  entertained  of  his  youth- 
ful and  godlike  beauty,  rose  constantly  before  him  as  the  most  sig- 
nal instance  of  the  effects  of  a  good  education  against  the  tempta- 
tions of  power ;— as  being,  beyond  any  thing  recorded  in  Roman 
history,  the  career  of  "  the  greatest  man  of  the  ancient  world  ;"  and 

10 


138  LIFE  0F  DR-   ARNOLD. 

even  after  the  period,  when  Greece  ceased  to  possess  any  real  inte- 
rest for  him,  he  loved  to  hang  with  a  melancholy  pleasure  over  the 
last  decay  of  Greek  genius  and  wisdom — "  the  worn-out  and  cast- 
off  skin,  from  which  the  living  serpent  had  gone  forth  to  carry  his 
youth  and  vigour  to  other  lands." 

But,  deep  as  was  his  interest  in  Grecian  history,  and  though  in 
some  respects  no  other  part  of  ancient  literature  derived  so  great  a 
light  from  his  researches,  it  was  to  his  History  of  Rome  that  he 
looked  as  the  chief  monument  of  his  historical  fame.  Led  to  it 
partly  by  his  personal  feeling  of  regard  towards  Niebuhr  and 
Chevalier  Bunsen,  and  by  the  sense  of  their  encouragement,  there 
was,  moreover,  something  in  the  subject  itself  peculiarly  attractive 
to  him,  whether  in  the  magnificence  of  the  field  which  it  em- 
braced,— ("  the  History  of  Rome,"  he  said,  "  must  be  in  some  sort 
the  History  of  the  World,") — or  in  the  congenial  element  which  he 
naturally  found  in  the  character  of  a  people,  "  whose  distinguish- 
ing quality  was  their  love  of  institutions  and  order,  and  their 
reverence  for  law."  Accordingly,  after  approaching  it  in  various 
forms,  he  at  last  conceived  the  design  of  the  work,  of  which  the 
three  published  volumes  are  the  result,  but  which  he  had  intended 
to  carry  down,  in  successive  periods,  to  what  seemed  to  him  its 
natural  termination  in  the  coronation  of  Charlemagne.  (Pref. 
vol.  i.   p.  vii.) 

The  two  earlier  volumes  occupy  a  place  in  the  History  of 
Rome,  and  of  the  ancient  world  generally,  which  in  England  had 
not  and  has  not  been  otherwise  filled  up.  Yet  in  the  subjects  of 
which  they  treat,  his  peculiar  talents  had  hardly  a  fair  field  for 
their  exercise.  The  want  of  personal  characters  and  of  distinct 
events,  which  Niebuhr  was  to  a  certain  extent  able  to  supply  from 
the  richness  of  his  learning  and  the  felicity  of  his  conjectures,  was 
necessarily  a  disadvantage  to  an  historian  whose  strength  lay  in 
combining  what  was  already  known,  rather  than  in  deciphering 
what  was  unknown,  and  whose  veneration  for  his  predecessor 
made  him  distrustful  not  only  of  dissenting  from  his  judgment,  but 
even  of  seeing  or  discovering  more  than  had  been  by  him  seen  or 
discovered  before.  "  No  man,"  as  he  said,  "can  step  gracefully  or 
boldly  when  he  is  groping  his  way  in  the  dark,"  (Hist.  Rome,  i. 
p.  133,)  and  it  is  with  a  melancholy  interest  that  we  read  his  com- 
plaint of  the  obscurity  of  the  subject : — "  I  can  but  encourage 
myself,  whilst  painfully  feeling  my  way  in  such  thick  darkness, 
with  the  hope  of  arriving  at  last  at  the  light,  and  enjoying  all  the 
freshness  and  fulness  of  a  detailed  cotemporary  history."  (Hist 
Rome,  ii.  p.  447.)  But  the  narrative  of  the  second  Punic  war, 
which  occupies  the  third  and  posthumous  volume,  both  as  being 
comparatively  unbroken  ground,  and  as  affording  so  full  a  scope 
for  his  talents  in  military  and  geographical  descriptions,  may  well 
be  taken  as  a  measure  of  his  historical  powers,  and  has  been  pro- 
nounced by  its  editor,  Archdeacon  Hare,  to  be  the  first  history 
which  "has  given  any  thing  like  an  adequate  representation  of 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  I39 

the  wonderful  genius  and  noble  character  of  Hannibal."  With 
this  volume  the  work  was  broken  off ;  but  it  is  impossible  not  to 
dwell  for  a  moment  on  what  it  would  have  been  had  he  lived  to 
complete  it. 

The  outline  in  his  early  articles  in  the  Encyclopaedia  Metro- 
politana,  of  the  later  history  of  the  Civil  Wars,  "  a  subject  so  glo- 
rious," he  writes  in  1824,  "  that  I  groan  beforehand  when  I  think 
how  certainly  I  shall  fail  in  doing  it  justice," — provokes  of  itself 
the  desire  to  see  how  he  would  have  gone  over  the  same  ground 
again  with  his  added  knowledge  and  experience — how  the  charac- 
ters of  the  time,  which  even  in  this  rough  sketch  stand  out  more 
clearly  than  in  any  other  English  work  on  the  same  period,  would 
have  been  reproduced — how  he  would  have  represented  the  pure1 
character  and  military  genius  of  his  favourite  hero,  Pompey — 
or  expressed  his  mingled  admiration  and  abhorrence  of  the  intel- 
lectual power  and  moral  degradation  of  Csesar  ; — how  he  would 
have  done  justice  to  the  coarseness  and  cruelty  of  Marius,  "  the 
lowest  of  democrats"— or  amidst  all  his  crimes,  to  the  views  of  "  the 
most  sincere  of  aristocrats,"  Sylla.  And  in  advancing  to  the  fur- 
ther times  of  the  Empire,  his  scattered  hints  exhibit  his  strong  desire 
to  reach  those  events,  to  which  all  the  intervening  volumes  seemed 
to  him  only  a  prelude.  "  I  would  not  overstrain  my  eyes  or  my 
faculties,"  he  writes  in  1840,  "  but  whilst  eyesight  and  strength  are 
yet  undecayed,  I  want  to  get  through  the  earlier  Roman  History, 
to  come  down  to  the  Imperial  and  Christian  times,  which  form  a 
subject  of  such  deep  interest."  What  his  general  admiration  for 
Niebuhr  was  as  a  practical  motive  in  the  earlier  part  of  his  work, 
that  his  deep  aversion  to  Gibbon,  as  a  man,  was  in  the  latter  part. 
"  My  highest  ambition,"  he  said,  as  early  as  1826,  "  and,  what  I 
hope  to  do  as  far  as  I  can,  is  to  make  my  history  the  very  reverse 
of  Gibbon  in  this  respect, — that  whereas  the  whole  spirit  of  his 
work,  from  its  low  morality,  is  hostile  to  religion,  without  speaking 
directly  against  it ;  so  my  greatest  desire' would  be,  in  my  History, 
by  its  high  morals  and  its  general  tone,  to  be  of  use  to  the  cause, 
without  actually  bringing  it  forward." 

There  would  have  been  the  place  for  his  unfolding  the  rise  of 
the  Christian  Church,  not  in  a  distinct  ecclesiastical  history,  but  as 
he  thought  it  ought  to  be  written,  in  conjunction  with  the  history 
of  the  world.     "  The  period  from  Augustus  to  Aurelian,"  he  writes, 

1  It  may  be  necessary,  (especially  sinee  the  recent  publication  of  Niebuhr's  Lectures, 
where  a  very  different  opinion  is  advocated,)  to  refer  to  Dr.  Arnold's  own  estimate  of 
the  moral  character  of  Pompey,  which,  it  is  believed,  he  retained  unaltered,  in  the  Encyc. 
Metrop.  ii.  252.  The  following  extract  from  a  letter  of  General  Napier  may  not  be 
without  interest  in  confirmation  of  an  opinion  which  he  had  himself  formed  independ- 
ently of  it.  "  Tell  Dr.  Arnold  to  beware  of  falling  into  the  error  of  Pompey  being  a  bad 
general  ;  he  was  a  very  great  one,  perhaps  in  a  purely  military  sense  greater  than  Cae- 
sar."— At  the  same  time  it  should  be  observed,  that  his  admiration  of  Caesar's  intellectual 
greatness  was  always  very  strong,  and  it  was  almost  with  an  indignant  animation  that.. 
on  the  starting  of  an  objection  that  Caesar's  victories  were  only  gained  over  inferior 
enemies,  he  at  once  denied  the  inference,  and  instantly  recounted  campaign  after  cam- 
paign in  refutation. 


140  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

as  far  back  as  1824,  "  I  will  not  willingly  give  up  to  any  one,  be- 
cause I  have  a  particular  object,  namely,  to  blend  the  civil  and  re- 
ligious history  together  more  than  has  ever  yet  been  done."  There 
he  would,  on  the  one  hand,  have  expressed  his  view  of  the  external 
influences,  which  checked  the  free  growth  of  the  early  Church — 
the  gradual  revival  of  Judaic  principles  under  a  Christian  form — 
the  gradual  extinction  of  individual  responsibility,  under  the  system 
of  government,  Roman  and  Gentile  in  its  origin,  which,  according 
to  his  latest  opinion,  took  possession  of  the  Church  rulers  from  the 
time  of  Cyprian.  There,  on  the  other  hand,  he  would  have  dwelt 
on  the  self-denying  zeal  and  devotion  to  truth,  which  peculiarly 
endeared  to  him  the  very  name  of  Martyr,  and  on  the  bond  of 
Christian  brotherhood,  which  he  delighted  to  feel  with  such  men  as 
Athanasius  and  Augustine,  discerning,  even  in  what  he  thought 
their  weaknesses,  a  signal  testimony  to  the  triumph  of  Christianity, 
unaided  by  other  means,  than  its  intrinsic  excellence  and  holiness. 
Lastly,  with  that  analytical  method,  which  he  delighted  to  pursue 
in  his  historical  researches,  he  would  have  traced  to  their  source, 
"  those  evil  currents  of  neglect,  of  uncharitableness,  and  of  igno- 
rance, whose  full  streams  we  now  find  so  pestilent,"  first,  "  in  the 
social  helplessness  and  intellectual  frivolousness"  of  the  close  of 
the  Roman  empire  ;  and  then,  in  that  event  which  had  attracted 
his  earliest  inierest,  "  the  nominal  conversion  of  the  northern  na- 
tions to  Christianity, — a  vast  subject,  and  one  of  the  greatest  im- 
portance both  to  the  spiritual  and  temporal  advancement  of  the 
nations  of  Europe,  (Serm.  vol.  i.  p.  8S,)  as  explaining  the  more  con- 
firmed separation  of  clergy  and  laity  in  later  times,  and  the  incom- 
plete influence  which  Christianity  has  exercised  upon  the  institu- 
tions even  of  Christian  countries."     (Serm.  vol.  hi.  Pref.  p.  xiv.) 

2.  Strong  as  was  his  natural  taste  for  History,  it  was  to  Theol- 
ogy that  he  looked  as  the  highest  sphere  of  his  exertions,  and  as 
the  province  which  most  needed  them.  The  chief  object,  which  he 
here  proposed  to  himself — in  fact,  the  object  which  he  conceived  as 
the  proper  end  of  Theology  itself — was  the  interpretation  and  ap- 
plication of  the  Scriptures.  From  the  time  of  his  early  studies  at 
Oxford,  when  he  analyzed  and  commented  on  the  Epistles  of  St. 
Paul,  with  Chrysostom's  Homilies,  down  te  the  last  year  of  his  life, 
when  he  was  endeavouring  to  set  on  foot  a  Rugby  edition  of  them, 
under  his  own  superintendence,  he  never  lost  sight  of  this  design. 
In  the  scattered  notices  of  it  in  his  Sermons,  published  and  unpub- 
lished, there  is  enough  to  enable  us  to  combine  his  principles  into 
a  distinct  whole  ;  and  to  conceive  them,  not  in  the  polemical  form, 
which  in  his  later  years  they  sometimes  presented  in  their  external 
aspect,  but  as  the  declaration  of  his  positive  views  of  the  Scriptures 
themselves,  wholly  independent  of  any  temporary  controversy  ;  and 
as  the  most  complete  reflex,  not  only  of  his  capacities  as  an  inter- 
preter, but  also  on  the  one  hand,  of  his  powers  of  historical  dis- 
cernment, on  the  other,  of  the  reality  of  his  religious  feelings. 

Impossible  as  it  is  to  enter  here  into  any  detailed  exposition  of 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  14  ^ 

his  views,  it  has  been  felt  that  the  liveliest  image  of  what  he  was 
in  this  department  will  be  given  by  presenting  their  main  features, 
as  they  were  impressed  upon  the  mind  of  the  same  earlier  pupil  and 
later  friend,  whose  name  has  before  occurred  in  these  pages,  and 
whose  personal  recollections  of  the  sphere  in  which  he  most  ad- 
mired him,  will  probably  convey  a  truer  and  more  distinct  concep- 
tion than  would  be  left  by  a  representation  of  the  same  facts  in 
general  language,  or  from  a  more  distant  point  of  view. 


MY    DEAR    STANLEY, 

You  ask  me  to  describe  Dr.  Arnold  as  an  Exegetical  Divine :  I  feel 
myself  altogether  unequal  to  such  a  task ;  indeed,  I  have  no  other  excuse 
for  writing  at  all  on  such  a  subject,  than  the  fact  that  I  early  appreciated  his 
greatness  as  a  Theologian,  and  for  many  years  had  the  happiness  of  discuss- 
ing frequently  with  him  his  general  views  on  scientific  Divinity.  It  was  one 
of  my  earliest  convietions  respecting  him,  that,  distinguished  as  he  was  in 
many  departments  of  literature  and  practical  philosophy,  he  was  most  dis- 
tinguished as  an  interpreter  of  Scripture ;  and  the  lapse  of  years,  and  an 
intimate  knowledge  of  his  mind  and  character,  have  but  confirmed  this  con- 
viction. As  an  expounder  of  the  word  of  God,  Arnold  always  has  seemed  to 
me  to  be  truly  and  emphatically  great.  I  do  not  say  this  on  account  of  the 
extent  and  importance  of  what  he  actually  achieved  in  this  department ;  for, 
unfortunately,  he  never  gave  himself  up  fully  to  it ;  he  never  worked  at  it, 
as  the  great  business  of  his  literary  life.  I  shall  ever  deplore  his  not  having 
done  so  ;  and  I  well  remember  how  sharp  was  the  struggle,  when  he  had  to 
choose  between  the  interpretation  of  Scripture  and  the  Roman  History  3  and 
how  the  choice  was  determined,  not  by  the  consideration  of  what  his  peculiar 
talent  was  most  calculated  for  performing  successfully,  but  by  regard  to  ex- 
trinsic matters, — the  prejudice  of  the  clergy  against  him,  the  unripeness  of 
England  for  a  free  and  unfettered  discussion  of  scriptural  Exegesis,  and  the 
injury  which  he  might  be  likely  to  do  to  his  general  usefulness.  And,  as  I 
then  did  my  utmost  to  determine  his  labours  to  the  field  of  Theology,  so  now 
I  must  deeply  regret  the  heavy  loss,  which  I  cannot  but  think  that  the  cause 
of  sound  interpretation — and,  as  founded  upon  it,  of  doctrinal  theology — has 
sustained  in  England.  The  amount,  then,  of  interpretation  which  he  has 
published  to  the  world,  though  not  inconsiderable,  is  still  small  in  respect  of 
what  there  remained  to  be  done  by  him  ;  but  Arnold  has  furnished  a  method 
— has  established  principles  and  rules  for  interpreting  Scripture,  which, 
with  God's  blessing,  will  be  the  guide  of  many  a  future  labourer,  and  prom- 
ise to  produce  fruit  of  inestimable  value.  In  his  writings  the  student  will 
find  a  path  opened  before  him — a,  manner  of  handling  the  word  of  God — a 
pointing  out  of  the  end  to  be  held  in  view — and  a  light  thrown  on  the  road 
that  leads  to  it,  that  will  amply  repay  the  deepest  meditation  on  them,  and 
will  (if  I  may  say  so  without  presumption)  furnish  results  full  of  the  richest 
truth,  and  destined  to  exercise  a  commanding  influence  on  the  conduct  and 
determination  of  religious  controversy  hereafter. 

It  must  be  carefully  borne  in  mind,  that  there  are  two  methods  of  read- 
ing Scripture, perfectly  distinct  in  their  objects  and  nature:  the  one  is  prac- 
tical, the  other  scientific ;  the  one  aims  at  the  edification  of  the  reader,  the 
other  at  the  enlightenment  of  his  understanding ;  the  one  seeks  the  religious 
truth  of  Scripture  as  bearing  on  the  inquirer's  heart  and  personal  feelings, 
the  other  the  right  comprehension  of  the  literary  and  intellectual  portions  of 
the  Bible.  That  Arnold  read  and  meditated  on  the  word  of  God  as  a  disciple 
of  Christ  for  his  soul's  daily  edification ;  that  it  was  to  him  the  word  of  life, 
the  fountain  of  his  deepest  feelings,  the  rule  of  his  life  ;  that  he  dwelt  in  the 
humblest,  most  reverential,  most  prayerful  study  of  its  simplest  truths,  and 


142  L1FE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

under  the  abiding  influence  of  their  power,  as  they  were  assimilated  into  his 
spiritual  being  by  faith ;  that  Arnold  felt  and  did  all  this,  the  whole  tenor  of 
his  life  and  every  page  of  his  biography  amply  attest.  Those,  who  were 
most  intimate  with  him.  will  readily  recall  the  mingled  feelings  of  reverence 
and  devotion  with  which  he  would,  in  his  lonelier  hours,  repeat  to  himself 
such  passages  as  the  raising  of  Lazarus,  or  the  description  of  the  judgment; 
nor  will  they  easily  forget  the  deep  emotion,  with  which  he  was  agitated, 
when,  on  a  comparison  having  been  made  in  his  family  circle,  which  seemed 
to  place  St.  Paul  above  St.  John,  he  burst  into  tears,  and  in  his  own  earnest 
and  loving  tone,  repeated  one  of  the  verses  from  St.  John,  and  begged  that 
the  comparison  might  never  again  be  made.  It  would  be  easy  to  multiply 
illustrations  of  this  feeling ;  but  one  more  will  suffice.  Finding  that  one  of 
his  children  had  been  greatly  shocked  and  overcome  by  the  first  sight  of 
death,  he  tenderly  endeavoured  to  remove  the  feeling  which  had  been  awa- 
kened, and  opening  a  Bible,  pointed  to  the  words,  "  Then  cometh  Simon 
Peter  following  him,  and  went  into  the  sepulchre,  and  seeth  the  linen  clothes 
lie,  and  the  napkin,  that  was  about  his  head,  not  lying  with  the  linen  clothes, 
but  wrapped  together  in  a  place  by  itself."  Nothing,  he  said,  to  his  mind, 
afforded  us  such  comfort  when  shrinking  from  the  outward  accompaniments 
of  death, — the  grave,  the  grave-clothes,  the  loneliness, — as  the  thought  that 
all  these  had  been  around  our  Lord  Himself,  round  Him  who  died,  and  is 
now  alive  for  evermore. 

But  I  am  here  concerned  with  the  other,  and  strictly  intellectual  process  ; 
the  scientific  exposition  of  the  Scriptures  as  a  collection  of  ancient  books 
full  of  the  mightiest  intellectual  truths ;  as  the  record  of  God's  dealings  with 
man;  and  the  historical  monument  of  the  most  wonderful  facts  in  the  history 
of  the  world.  For  the  office  of  such  an  interpreter,  Arnold  possessed  rare 
and  eminent  qualifications:  learning,  piety,  judgment,  historical  tact,  sa- 
gacity. The  excellence  of  his  method  may  be  considered  under  two  heads : 
— I.  He  had  a  very  remarkable,  I  should  rather  say  (if  I  might)  wonderful 
discernment  of  the  divine,  as  incorporated  in  the  human  element  of  Scrip- 
ture ;  and  the  recognition  of  these  two  separate  and  most  distinct  elements, — 
the  careful  separation  of  the  two,  so  that  each  shall  be  subject  to  its  own 
laws,  and  determined  on  its  own  principles, — was  the  foundation  of  the  grand 
characteristic  principle  of  his  Exegesis.  Our  Lord's  words,  that  we  must 
"  render  to  Caesar  the  things  which  are  Ceesai's,  and  to  God  the  things  which 
are  God's,"  seemed  to  him  to  be  of  universal  application,  and  nowhere  more 
so,  than  in  the  interpretation  of  Scripture.  And  his  object  was  not,  accord- 
ing to  the  usual  practice,  to  establish  by  its  means  certain  religious  truths, 
but  to  study  its  contents  themselves — to  end,  in  short,  instead  of  beginning 
with  doctrine.  Indeed,  doctrine,  in  the  strict  sense,  doctrine,  as  pure 
religious  theory,  such  as  it  is  exhibited  in  scientific  articles  and  creeds, 
never  was  his  object.  Doctrine,  in  its  practical  and  its  religious  side,  as 
bearing  on  religious  feeling  and  character,  not  doctrine,  m  the  sense  of  a 
direct  disclosure  of  spiritual  or  material  essences,  as  they  are  in  themselves, 
was  all  that  he  endeavoured  to  find,  and  all  that  he  believed  could  be  found,  in 
the  teaching  of  Scripture. 

First  of  all  he  approached  the  human  side  of  the  Bible  in  the  same  real 
historical  spirit,  with  the  same  methods,  rules,  and  principles,  as  he  did 
Thucydides.  He  recognized  in  the  writers  of  the  Scriptures  the  use  of  a 
human  instrument — language :  and  this  he  would  ascertain  and  fix,  as  in  any 
other  authors,  by  the  same  philological  rules.  Further,  too,  the  Bible  presents 
an  assemblage  of  historical  events,  it  announces  an  historical  religion;  and 
the  historical  element  Arnold  judged  of  historically  by  the  established  rules 
of  history,  substantiating  the  general  veracity  of  Scripture  even  amidst 
occasional  inaccuracies  of  detail,  and  proposing  to  himself,  for  his  special  end 
here,  the  reproduction,  in  the  language  and  forms  belonging  to  our  own  age, 
and  therefore  familiar  to  us,  of  the  exact  mode  of  thinking,  feeling,  and  acting 
which  prevailed  in  the  days  gone  by. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  143 

But  was  this  all  1  Is  the  Bible  but  a  common  book,  recording,  indeed, 
more  remarkable  occurrences,  but  in  itself  possessed  of  no  higher  authority 
than  a  faithful  and  trustworthy  historian  like  Thucydides  ?  Nothing  could 
be  farther  from  Dr.  Arnold's  feeling.  In  the  Bible,  he  found  and  acknow- 
ledged an  oracle  of  God — a  positive  and  supernatural  revelation  made  to 
man,  an  immediate  inspiration  of  the  Spirit.  No  conviction  was  more  deeply 
seated  in  his  nature  ;  and  this  conviction  placed  an  impassable  gulf  between 
him  and  all  rationalizing  divines.  Only  it  is  very  important  to  observe  how 
this  fact,  in  respect  of  scientific  order,  presented  itself  to  his  mind.  He  came 
upon  it  historically;  he  did  not  start  with  any  preconceived  theory  of  inspi- 
ration; but  rather,  in  studying  the  writings  of  those  who  were  commissioned 
by  God  to  preach  His  Gospel  to  the  world,  he  met  with  the  fact,  that  they 
claimed  to  be  sent  from  God,  to  have  a  message  from  Him,  to  be  filled  with 
His  Spirit.  Any  acute,  precise,  and  sharply  defined  theory  of  inspiration, 
to  the  best  of  my  knowledge,  Arnold  had  not;  and,  if  he  had  been  asked  to 
give  one,  I  think  he  would  have  answered  that  the  subject  did  not  admit  of 
one.  I  think  he  would  have  been  content  to  realize  the  feelings  of  those 
who  heard  the  Apostles ;  he  would  have  been  sure,  on  one  side,  that  there 
was  a  voice  of  God  in  them ;  whilst,  on  the  other,  he  would  have  believed 
that  probably  no  one  in  the  apostolic  age  could  have  defined  the  exact  limits 
of  that  inspiration.  And  this  I  am  sure  I  may  affirm  with  certainty,  that 
never  did  a  student  feel  his  positive  faith,  his  sure  confidence  that  the  Bible 
was  the  word  of  God,  more  indestructible,  than  in  Arnold's  hands.  He  was 
conscious  that,  whilst  Arnold  interpreted  Scripture  as  a  scholar,  an  antiqua- 
rian, and  an  historian,  and  that  in  the  spirit  and  with  the  development  of 
modern  science,  he  had  also  placed  the  supernatural  inspiration  of  the  sa- 
cred writers  on  an  imperishable  historical  basis,  a  basis  that  would  be  proof 
against  any  attack  which  the  most  refined  modern  learning  could  direct 
against  it.  Those  only  who  are  fully  aware  of  the  importance  of  harmo- 
nizing the  progress  of  knowledge  with  Christianity,  or  rather,  of  asserting, 
amidst  every  possible  form  of  civilization,  the  objective  truths  of  Christianity 
and  its  life-giving  power,  can  duly  appreciate  the  value  of  the  confidence 
inspired  by  the  firm  faith  of  a  man,  at  once  liberal,  unprejudiced,  and,  in  the 
estimation  of  even  the  most  worldly  men,  possessed  of  high  historical  ability 

11.  But  I  have  not  yet  mentioned  the  greatest  merit  of  Arnold's  Exege- 
sis ;  it  took  a  still  higher  range.  It  was  not  confined  to  a  mere  reproduction 
of  a  faithful  image  of  the  words  and  deeds  recorded  in  the  Bible,  such  as 
they  were  spoken,  done,  and  understood  at  the  times  when  they  severally 
occurred.  It  is  a  great  matter  to  perceive  what  Christianity  was,  such  as  it 
was  felt  and  understood  to  be  by  the  hearers  of  the  Apostles.  But  the 
Christian  prophet  and  interpreter  had  in  his  eyes  a  still  more  exalted  office. 
God's  dealings  with  any  particular  generation  of  men  are  but  the  application 
of  the  eternal  truths  of  His  Providence  to  their  particular  circumstances,  and 
the  form  of  that  application  has  at  different  times  greatly  varied.  Here  it 
was  that  Arnold's  most  characteristic  eminence  lay.  He  seemed  to  me  to 
possess  the  true  ^aoio^a,  the  very  spiritual  gift,  of  yvoimq,  having  an  insight 
not  only  into  the  actual  form  of  the  religion  of  any  single  age,  but  into  the 
meaning  and  substance  of  God's  moral  government  generally;  a  vision  of 
the  eternal  principles  by  which  it  is  guided  ;  and  such  a  profound  under- 
standing of  their  application,  as  to  be  able  to  set  forth  God's  manifold  wis- 
dom, as  manifested  at  divers  times,  and  under  circumstances  of  the  most  op- 
posite kind;  nay,  still  more,  to  reconcile  with  His  unchangeable  attributes 
those  passages  in  Holy  Writ  at  which  infidels  had  scoffed,  ard  which  pious 
men  had  read  in  reverential  silence.  Thus  he  vindicated  God's  command 
to  Abraham  to  sacrifice  his  son,  and  to  the  Jews  to  exterminate  the  nations  of 
Canaan,  by  explaining  the  principles  on  which  these  commands  were  given 
and  their  reference  to  the  moral  state  of  those  to  whom  they  were  addressed  ; 
thereby  educing  light  out  of  darkness,  unravelling  the  thread  of  God's  reli- 
gious education  of  the  human  race,  from  its  earliest  infancy  down  to  the  ful- 


144  LIFE  op  DR-  ARNOLD. 

ness  of  times,  and  holding  up  God's  marvellous  counsels  to  the  devout  won- 
der and  meditation  of  the  thoughtful  believer.  As  I  said  at  first,  Arnold  has 
rather  pointed  out  the  path,  than  followed  it  to  any  extent  himself;  the  stu- 
dent will  find  in  his  writings  the  principles  of  his  method  rather  than  its  de- 
velopment. They  are  scattered,  more  or  less,  throughout  all  his  writings, 
but  more  especially  in  the  Appendix  to  vol.  ii.  of  the  Sermons,  the  Preface 
to  the  third,  the  Notes  to  the  fourth,  and  the  Two  Sermons  on  Prophecy.1 
These  last  furnish  to  the  student  a  very  instructive  instance  of  his  method  ; 
for,  whilst  he  will  recognize  there  the  double  sense  of  Prophecy,  and  much 
besides  that  was  held  by  the  old  commentators,  he  will  also  perceive  how 
different  an  import  they  assume,  as  treated  by  Arnold  ;  and  how  his  wide 
and  elevated  view  could  find  in  Prophecy  a  firm  foundation  for  a  Christian's 
hope  and  faith,  without  their  being  coupled  with  that  extravagance  with 
which  the  study  of  the  Prophecies  has  been  so  often  united.  His  Sermons, 
also,  generally  exhibit  very  striking  illustrations  of  his  faculty  to  discern 
general  truth  under  particular  circumstances,  and  his  power  to  apply  it  in  a 
very  altered,  nay,  often  opposite  form  to  cases  of  a  different  nature ;  thus 
making  God's  word  an  ever  living  oracle,  furnishing  to  every  age  those  pre- 
cise rules,  principles,  and  laws  of  conduct,  which  its  actual  circumstances 
may  require. 

I  must  not  forget  to  add,  that  his  principles  of  interpretation  were  of  slow 
and  matured  growth  ;  he  arrived  at  them  gradually,  and,  in  some  instances, 
even  reluctantly;  and  one  of  the  most  elaborate  of  his  early  sermons,  which 
he  had  intended  to  h|ave  preached  before  the  University,  was  in  defence  of 
what  is  called  the  verbal  inspiration  of  Scripture.  But  since  I  became  ac- 
quainted with  him,  I  have  never  known  him  to  maintain  any  thing  but  what 
I  have  here  tried  to  set  forth.  It  is  very  possible  that  much  of  what  I  have 
here  said  may  appear  to  many  to  be  exaggerated ;  but  I  know  not  how  else 
to  express  adequately  my  firm  confidence  that  the  more  the  principles  which 
guided  Arnold's  interpretation  of  Scripture  are  studied  in  his  writings,  the 
more  will  their  power  to  throw  light  on  the  depths  of  God's  wisdom  be  ap- 
preciated. Yours,  ever, 

B.  PRICE. 

3.  Lastly,  his  letters  will  have  already  shown  how  early  he 
had  conceived  the  idea  of  the  work,2  to  which  he  chiefly  looked 
forward,  as  that  of  his  old  age,  on  Christian  Politics,  or  Chinch 
and  State.  But  it  is  only  a  wider  survey  of  his  general  views  that 
will  show  how  completely  this  was  the  centre  round  which  were 
gathered  not  only  all  his  writings,  but  all  his  thoughts  and  actions 
on  social  subjects,  and  which  gave  him  a  distinct  position  amongst 
English  divines,  not  only  of  the  present,Jbut  oi  almost  all  pre- 
ceding generations.  We  must  remember  how  the  Greek  science, 
noXmxi],  of  which  the  English  word  "politics,"  or  even  political 
science,  is  so  inadequate  a  translation — society  in  its  connexion 
with  the  highest  welfare  of  men — exhibited  to  him  the  great  prob- 
lem which  every  educated  man  was  called  upon  to  solve.  We 
must  conceive  how  lofty  were  the  aspirations  which  he  entertained 

1  To  these  may  be  added  the  posthumous  volume  of  •*  Sermons,  mostly  on  Interpre- 
talion  of  Scripture." 

2  This  work  he  approached  at  four  different  times:  1,  in  a  sketch  drawn  up  in  1827  ; 
2,  in  two  fragments  in  1833,  34  ;  3,  in  a  series  of  Letters  to  Chevalier  Bunsen,  1839  ; 
4,  in  an  historical  fragment,  1838,1841.  These  have  been  all  published  in  the  2nd 
edition  of  the  Fragment  on  the  Church,  which  in  the  1st  edition  only  contained  the  4th 
of  those  here  mentioned. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  145 

of  what  Christianity  was  intended  to  effect,  and  what,  if  rightly 
applied,  it  might  yet  effect,  far  beyond  any  thing  which  has  yet 
been  seen,  or  is  ordinarily  conceived,  for  the  moral  and  social  res- 
toration of  the  world.  We  must  enter  into  the  keen  sense  of  the 
startling  difficulty  which  he  felt  to  be  presented  by  its  comparative 
failure.  "  The  influence  of  Christianity  no  doubt  has  made  itself 
felt  in  all  those  countries  which  have  professed  it ;  but  ought  not 
its  effects,"  he  urged,  "  to  have  been  far  more  perceptible  than  they 
are,  now  that  nearly  eighteen  hundred  years  have  elapsed  since 
the  kingdom  of  God  was  first  proclaimed  ?  Is  it,  in  fact,  the  king- 
dom of  God  in  which  we  are  now  living?  Are  we  at  this  hour 
living  under  the  law  or  Under  grace  ?"  Every  thing,  in  short, 
which  he  thought  or  said  on  this  subject,  was  in  answer  to  what  he 
used  to  call  the  very  question  of  questions  ;  the  question  which  oc- 
curs in  the  earliest  of  all  his  works,  and  which  he  continued  to  ask 
of  himself  and  of  others  as  long  as  he  lived.  "  Why.  amongst  us 
in  this  country,  is  the  mighty  work  of  raising  up  God's  kingdom 
stopped  ;  the  work  of  bringing  every  thought  and  word  and  deed 
to  the  obedience  of  Christ  ?"     (Serm.  vol.  i.  p.  115.) 

The  great  cause  of  this  hindrance  to  the  triumph  of  Christian- 
ity, he  believed  to  lie  (to  adopt  his  own  distinction)  in  the  corrup- 
tion not  of  the  Religion  of  Christ,  but  of  the  Church  of  Christ. 
The  former  he  felt  had  on  the  whole  done  its  work — "  its  truths," 
he  said,  "  are  to  be  sought  in  the  Scriptures  alone,  and  are  the  sam# 
at  all  times  and  in  all  countries."  But  "  the  Church,  which  is  not 
a  revelation  concerning  the  eternal  and  unchangeable  God,  but  an 
institution  to  enable  changeable  man  to  apprehend  the  unchange- 
able," had,  he  maintained,  been  virtually  destroyed :  and  thus, 
"Christianity  being  intended  to  remedy  the  intensity  of  the  evil  of 
the  Fall  by  its  Religion,  and  the  universality  of  the  evil  by  its 
Church,  has  succeeded  in  the  first,  because  its  Religion  has  been 
retained  as  God  gave  it,  but  has  failed  in.  the  second,  because  its 
Church  has  been  greatly  corrupted."     (Serm.  vol.  iv.  Pref.  p.  xliv.) 

What  he  meant  by  this  corruption,  and  why  he  thought  it  fatal 
to  the  full  development  of  Christianity,  will  best  appear  by  ex- 
plaining his  idea  of  the  Church,  both  with  regard  to  its  true  end, 
and  its  true  nature.  Its  end  he  maintained  "  to  be  the  putting 
down  of  moral  evil."  "  And  if  this  idea"'  he  asks,  {!  seem  strange 
to  any  one,  let  him  consider  whether  he  will  not  find  this  notion  of 
Christianity  every  where  prominent  in  the  Scriptures,  and  whether 
the  most  peculiar  ordinances  of  the  Christian  Religion  are  not 
founded  upon  it ;  or  again,  if  it  seems  natural  to  him,  let  him  ask 
himself  whether  he  has  well  considered  the  legitimate  consequen- 
ces of  such  a  definition,  and  whether,  in  fact,  it  is  not  practically 
forgotten  ?"  Its  true  nature  he  believed  to  be  not  an  institution  of 
the  Clergy,  but  a  living  society  of  all  Christians.  "  When  I  hear 
men  talk  of  the  Church,"  he  used  to  say,  "  I  cannot  help  recalling 
how  Abbe  Sieyes  replied  to  the  question,  '  What  is  the  Tiers  Etat?' 
by  saying  '  La  nation  moins  la  noblesse  et  le  clerge  ;'  and  so  I,  if  I 


146  LIFE  OP  DR.  ARNOLD. 

were  asked,  What  are  the  laity  ?  would  answer,  the  Church  minus 
the  Clergy.  This,"  he  said,  "  is  the  view  taken  of  the  Church  in 
the  New  Testament ;  can  it  be  said  that  it  is  the  view  held  amongst 
ourselves,  and  if  not,  is  not  the  difference  incalculable  ?"  It  was 
as  frustrating  the  union  of  all  Christians,  in  accomplishing  what 
he  believed  to  be  the  true  end  enjoined  by  their  common  Master, 
that  he  felt  so  strongly  against  the  desire  for  uniformity  of  opinion 
or  worship,  which  he  used  to  denounce  under  the  name  of  sectari- 
anism ;  it  was  an  annihilating  what  he  believed  to  be  the  Apostol- 
ical idea  of  a  Church,  that  he  felt  so  strongly  against  that  principle 
of  separation  between  the  clergy  and  laity,  which  he  used  to  de- 
nounce under  the  name  of  priestcraft.  "  As  far  as  the  principle  on 
which  Archbishop  Laud  and  his  followers  acted  went  to  reactuate 
the  idea  of  the  Church,  as  a  co-ordinate  and  living  power  by  virtue 
of  Christ's  institution  and  express  promise,  I  go  along  with  them, 
but  I  soon  discover  that  by  the  Church  they  meant  the  clergy,  the 
hierarchy  exclusively,  and  there  I  fly  off  from  them  at  a  tangent. 
For  it  is  this  very  interpretation  of  the  Church  that,  according  to 
my  conviction,  constituted  the  first  and  fundamental  apostacy." 
Such  was  the  motto  from  Coleridge's  Remains,  which  he  selected 
as  the  full  expression  of  his  own  views,  and  it  was  as  realizing  this 
idea  that  he  turned  eagerly  to  all  institutions,  which  seemed  likely 
to  impress  on  all  Christians  the  moral,  as  distinct  from  the  ceremo- 
nial character  of  their  religion,  the  equal  responsibility  and  power 
which  they  possessed,  not  "  as  friends  or  honorary  members"  of  the 
Church,  but  as  its  most  essential  parts. 

Such  (to  make  intelligible,  by  a  few  instances,  what  in  general 
language  must  be  obscure)  was  his  desire  to  revive  the  order  of 
deacons,  as  a  link  between  the  clergy  and  laity, — his  defence  of  the 
union  of  laymen  with  clerical  synods,  of  clergy  with  the  civil  legis- 
lature,— his  belief  that  an  authoritative  permission  to  administer 
the  Eucharist,  as  well  as  Baptism,  might  be  beneficially  granted  to 
civil  or  military  officers,  in  congregations  where  it  was  impossible 
to  procure  the  presence  of  clergy, — his  wish  for  the  restoration  of 
Church  discipline,  "which  never  can  and  never  ought  to  be  restored, 
till  the  Church  puts  an  end  to  the  usurpation  of  her  powers  by  the 
clergy  ;  and  which,  though  it  must  be  vain  when  opposed  to  public 
opinion,  yet,  when  it  is  the  expression  of  that  opinion,  can  achieve 
any  thing."  (Serm.  vol.  iv.  pp.  liii.  416.)  Such  was  his  sugges- 
tion of  the  revival  of  many  "  good  practices,  which  belong  to  the 
true  Church  no  less  than  to  the  corrupt  Church,  and  would  there 
be  purely  beneficial ;  daily  church  services,  frequent  communions, 
memorials  of  our  Christian  calling,  presented  to  our  notice  in  crosses 
and  wayside  oratories  ;  commemorations  to  holy  men  of  all  times 
and  countries;  the  doctrine  of  the  communion  of  saints  practically 
taught ;  religious  orders,  especially  of  women,  of  different  kinds, 
and  under  different  rules,  delivered  only  from  the  snare  and  sin  of 
perpetual  vows."     (Serm.  vol.  iv.  Pref.  p.  lvi.) 

A  society  organized  on  these  principles,  and  with  such  or  simi- 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  147 

lar  institutions,  was,  in  his  judgment,  the  "true  sign  from  heaven" 
meant  to  be  "  the  living  witness  of  the  reality  of  Christ's  salvation, 
which  should  remind  us  daily  of  God,  and  work  upon  the  habits  of 
our  life  as  insensibly  as  the  air  we  breathe,"  (Serm.  vol.  iv.  p.  307,) 
which  would  not  "  rest  satisfied  with  the  lesser  and  imperfect  good 
which  strikes  thrice  and  stays,"  (Ibid.  Pref.  p.  liv.)  which  would  be 
"  something  truer  and  deeper  than  satisfied  not  only  the  last  centu- 
ry, but  the  last  seventeen  centuries."     (Ibid.  Pref.  p.  liii.) 

But  it  was  almost  impossible  for  his  speculations  to  have  stopped 
short  of  the  most  tangible  shape  which  the  theory  assumed,  viz., 
his  idea  not  of  an  alliance  or  union,  but  of  the  absolute  identity  of 
the  Church  with  the  State.  In  other  words,  his  belief  that  the 
object  of  the  State  and  the  Church  was  alike  the  highest  welfare  of 
man,  and  that  as  the  State  could  not  accomplish  this,  unless  it 
acted  with  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  Church,  nor  the  Church, 
unless  it  was  invested  with  the  sovereign  power  of  the  State,  the 
State  and  the  Church  in  their  ideal  form  were  not  two  societies, 
but  one  ;  and  that  it  is  only  in  proportion  as  this  identity  is  real- 
ized in  each  particular  country,  that  man's  perfection  and  God's 
glory  can  be  established  on  earth.  This  theory  had,  indeed,  al- 
ready been  sanctioned  by  some  of  the  greatest  names  in  English 
theology  and  philosophy,  by  Hooker  in  his  Ecclesiastical  Polity, 
and  in  later  times  by  Burke,  and  in  part  by  Coleridge.  .But  (if  a 
negative  may  be  universally  asserted  on  such  a  subject)  it.  had 
never  before,  at  least  in  England,  been  so  completely  the  expression 
of  a  man's  whole  mind,  or  the  basis  of  a  whole  system,  political  as 
well  as  religious,  positive  as  well  as  negative. 

The  peculiar  line  of  his  historical  studies — the  admiration  which 
he  felt  for  the  Greek  and  Roman  commonwealths — his  intensely 
political  and  national  turn  of  mind — his  reverence  for  the  authority 
of  law — his  abhorrence  of  what  he  used  to  consider  the  anarchical 
spirit  of  dissent  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  sectarianism  of  a  clerical 
government  on  the  other — all  tended  to  the  same  result.  His  de- 
testation, on  the  one  hand,  of  what  he  used  to  call  the  secular  or, 
Jacobinical  notion  of  a  State,  as  providing  only  for  physical  ends, 
— on  the  other  hand,  of  what  he  used  to  call  the  superstitious  or 
antichristian  view  of  the  Church,  as  claiming  to  be  ruled  not  by 
national  laws,  but  by  a  divinely  appointed  succession  of  priests  or 
governors, — both  combined  to  make  him  look  to  the  nation  or  com- 
monwealth as  the  fit  sphere  for  the  full  realization  of  Christianity ; 
to  the  perfect  identification  of  Christian  with  political  society,  as 
the  only  mode  of  harmonizing  the  truths  which,  in  the  opposite 
systems  of  Archbishop  Whately  and  Mr.  Gladstone,  he  lamented  to, 
see  "  each  divorced  from  its  proper  mate." 

Accordingly,  no  full  development  of  the  Church,  no  full  Chris- 
tianization  of  the  State,  could  in  his  judgment  take  place,  until  the 
Church  should  have  become  not  a  subordinate,  but  a  sovereign 
society ;  not  acting  indirectly  on  the  world,  through  inferior  in- 
struments, but  directly  through  its  own  government,  the  supreme 


148  LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

legislature.  Then  at  last  all  public  officers  of  the  State,  feeling 
themselves  to  be  necessarily  officers  of  the  Church,  would  endea- 
vour "  each  in  his  vocation  and  ministry,"  to  serve  its  great  cause 
"  not  with  a  subject's  indifference,  but  with  a  citizen's  zeal.  Then 
the  jealousy,  with  which  the  clergy  and  laity  at  present  regard 
each  other's  interference,  would,  as  he  hoped,  be  lost  in  the  sense 
that  their  spheres  were  in  fact  the  same  ;  that  nothing  was  too  sec- 
ular to  claim  exemption  from  the  enforcement  of  Christian  duty, 
nothing  too  spiritual  to  claim  exemption  from  the  control  of  the 
government  of  a  Christian  State.  Then  the  whole  nation,  amidst 
much  variety  of  form,  ceremonial,  and  opinion,  would  at  last  feel 
that  the  great  ends  of  Christian  and  national  society,  now  for  the 
first  time  realized  to  their  view,  were  a  far  stronger  bond  of  union 
between  Christians,  and  a  far  deeper  division  from  those  who  were 
not  Christians,  than  any  subordinate  principle  either  of  agreement 
or  separation. 

It  was  thus  only,  that  he  figured  to  himself  the  perfect  consum- 
mation of  earthly  things, — the  triumph  of  what  he  used  emphati- 
cally to  call  the  Kingdom  of  God.  Other  good  institutions,  indeed, 
he  regarded  as  so  many  steps  towards  this  end.  The  establishment 
of  a  parochial  clergy,  even  in  its  present  state,  seemed  to  him  the 
highest  national  blessing, — much  more  the  revival  of  the  Church, 
as  he  would  have  wished  to  see  it  revived.  Still  the  work  of  Chris- 
tianity itself  was  not  accomplished,  so  long  as  political  and  social 
institutions  were  exempt  from  its  influence,  so  long  as  the  highest 
power  of  human  society  professed  to  act  on  other  principles  than 
those  declared  in  the  Gospel.  But,  whenever  it  should  come  to 
pass  that  the  strongest  earthly  bond  should  be  identical  with  the 
bond  of  Christian  fellowship, — that  the  highest  earthly  power  should 
avowedly  minister  to  the  advancement  of  Christian  holiness — that 
crimes  should  be  regarded  as  sins — that  Christianity  should  be  the 
acknowledged  basis  of  citizenship, — that  the  region  of  political  and 
national  questions,  war  and  peace,  oaths  and  punishments,  economy 
and  education,  so  long  considered  by  good  and  bad  alike  as  worldly 
and  profane,  should  be  looked  upon  as  the  very  sphere  to  which 
Christian  principles  are  most  applicable, — then  he  felt  that  Chris- 
tianity would  at  last  have  gained  a  position,  where  it  could  cope 
for  the  first  time,  front  to  front,  with  the  power  of  evil ;  that  the 
unfulfilled  promises  of  the  older  prophecies,  so  long  delayed,  would 
have  received  their  accomplishment ;  that  the  kingdoms  of  this 
world  would  have  indeed  become  the  kingdoms  of  the  Lord  and  of 
his  Christ. 

No  one  felt  more  keenly  than  himself  how  impossible  it  was  to 
apply  this  view  directly  to  existing  circumstances  ;  how  the  whole 
framework  of  society  must  be  reconstructed  before  it  could  be  brought 
into  action  ;  how  far  in  the  remote  future  its  accomplishment  must 
necessarily  lie.  "  So  deeply,"  he  said,  "is  the  distinction  between 
the  Church  and  the  State  seated  in  our  laws,  our  language,  and  our 
very  notions,  that  nothing  less  than  a  miraculous  interposition  of 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


149 


God's  Providence  seems  capable  within  any  definite  time  of  erad- 
icating it."1 

Still  it  was  not  in  his  nature  to  postpone,  even  in  thought,  the 
fulfilment  of  his  desires  to  a  remote  Millennium  or  Utopia,  such  as 
in  the  minds  of  many  men  acts  rather  as  a  reason  for  acquiescence 
in  the  existing  order  of  the  world,  than  as  a  motive  for  rising  above 
it.  The  wisdom  of  Hesiod's  famous  paradox,  "  He  is  a  fool  who 
knows  not  how  much  better  the  half  is  than  the  whole,"  was  often 
in  his  mouth  ;  in  answer  to  the  frequent  allegation  that  because  the 
complete  fulfilment  of  the  theory  was  impracticable,  therefore  no 
part  of  it  could  be  made  available.  "  I  cannot  answer  all  your  ob- 
jections fully,"  he  writes  to  Archbishop  Whately,  "  because  if  I 
could,  it  were  to  suppose  that  the  hardest  of  all  human  questions  con- 
tained no  great  difficulties  ;  but  I  think  on  the  whole  that  the  objec- 
tions to  my  scheme  are  less  than  to  any  other,  and  that  on  the  positive 
side  it  is  in  theory  perfect ;  and  though  it  never  will  be  wholly 
realized,  yet  if  men  can  be  brought  to  look  at  it  as  the  true  theory, 
the  practical  approximations  to  it  may  in  the  course  of  time  be  in- 
definitely great." 

It  was  still  the  thought  which  animated  all  his  exertions  in  be- 
half of  his  country,  where  he  felt  that  "  the  means  were  still  in  our 
hands,  which  it  seems  far  better  to  use  even  at  the  eleventh  hour, 
than  desperately  to  throw  them  away."2  And,  convinced  as  he  was, 
that  the  founders  of  our  present  constitution  in  Church  and  State 
did  "  truly  consider  them  to  be  identical,  the  Christian  nation  of 
England  to  be  the  Church  of  England,  the  head  of  that  nation  to 
be  for  that  very  reason  the  head  of  the  Church,"  he  asked  with  an 
indignant  sorrow,  "  whether  it  were  indeed  indifference  or  latitudina- 
rianism,  to  wish  most  devoutly  that  this  noble,  this  divine  theory 
might  be  fully  and  for  ever  realized."3  It  was  still  the  vision  which 
closed  the  vista  of  all  his  speculations ;  the  ideal  whole,  which 
might  be  incorporated  part  by  part  into  the  existing  order  of  society  ; 
the  ideal  end  which  each  successive  age  might  approach  more 
closely, — its  very  remoteness  only  impressing  him  more  deeply 
with  the  conviction  of  the  enormous  efforts  which  must  be  made  to 
bring  all  social  institutions  nearer  to  that  perfection  which  Christi- 
anity designed  for  them,  of  the  enormous  mass  of  evil  which  lay 
undisturbed  because  so  few  dared  to  acknowledge  the  identity  of 
the  cause  of  reform  with  the  cause  of  Christianity.  It  was  still,  in 
its  practical  form,  the  great  idea  of  which  the  several  parts  of  his 
life  were  so  many  distinct  exemplifications  ;  his  sermons — his 
teaching — his  government  of  the  school — his  public  acts- — his  own 
personal  character ;  and  to  which  all  his  dreams  of  wider  useful- 
ness instinctively  turned,  from  the  first  faint  outline  of  his  hopes  in 
his  earliest  letters  down  to  the  last  evening  of  his  life,  when  the  last 
thought  which  he  bestowed  on  the  future,  was  of  "  that  great  work, 
if  I  be  permitted  to  take  part  in  it." 

1  Preface  to  History  of  Rome,  vol.  i.  p.  ix. 
2  Serm.  vol.  ii.  Pref.  p.  vi.  3  Church  Reform,  Postscript,  p.  24. 


J50  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

The  general  view  of  Dr.  Arnold's  life  at  Rugby  must  not  be 
closed,  without  touching,  however  briefly  and  imperfectly,  on  that 
aspect  of  it,  which  naturally  gave  the  truest  view  of  his  mind  and 
character,  whilst  to  those  at  a  distance  it  was  comparatively  but 
little,  known. 

Perhaps  the  scene  which,  to  those  who  knew  him  best,  would 
bring  together  the  recollections  of  his  public  and  private  life  in  the 
most  lively  way,  was  his  study  at  Rugby.  There  he  sat  at  his 
work,  with  no  attempt  at  seclusion,  conversation  going  on  around 
him — his  children  playing  in  the  room— his  frequent  guests,  wheth- 
er friends  or  former  pupils,  coming  in  or  out  at  will — ready  at  once 
to  break  off  his  occupations  to  answer  a  question,  or  to  attend  to 
the  many  interruptions  to  which  he  was  liable ;  and  from  these 
interruptions,  or  from  his  regular  avocations,  at  the  few  odd  hours 
or  minutes  which  he  could  command,  would  he  there  return  and 
recommence  his  writing,  as  if  it  had  not  been  broken  off.  "  Instead 
of  feeling  my  head  exhausted,"  he  would  sometimes  say  after  the 
day's  business  was  over,  "  it  seems  to  have  quite  an  eagerness  to 
set  to  work."  "  I  feel  as  if  I  could  dictate  to  twenty  secretries  at 
once." 

Yet,  almost  unfailing  as  was  this  "  unhasting,  unresting  dili- 
gence," to  use  the  expression  of  a  keen  observer,  who  thus  charac- 
terized his  impression  of  one  day's  visit  at  Rugby,  he  would  often 
wish  for  something  more  like  leisure  and  repose.  ".We  some- 
times feel,"   he  said,   "  as  if  we  should  like  to  run  our  heads  into  a 

hole to  be  quiet  for  a  little  time  from  the  stir  of  so  many  human 

beings  which  greets  us  from  morning  to  evening."  And  it  was 
from  amidst  this  chaos  of  employments  that  he  turned,  with  all 
the  delight  of  which  his  nature  was  capable,  to  what  he  often 
dwelt  upon  as  the  rare,  the  unbroken,  the  almost  awful  happiness 
of  his  domestic  life.  It  is  impossible  adequately  to  describe  the 
union  of  the  whole  family  round  him,  who  was  not  only  the  father 
and  guide,  but  the  elder  brother  and  playfellow  of  his  children  ; 
the  first  feelings  of  enthusiastic  love  and  watchful  care,  carried 
through  twenty-two  years  of  wedded  life, — the  gentleness  and  de- 
votion which  marked  his  whole  feeling  and  manner  in  the  privacy 
of  his  domestic  intercourse.  Those  who  had  known  him  only  in 
the  school,  can  remember  the  kind  of  surprise  with  which  they 
first  witnessed  his  tenderness  and  playfulness.  Those  who  had 
known  him  only  in  the  bosom  of  his  family,  found  it  difficult  to 
conceive  how  his  pupils  or  the  world  at  large  should  have  formed 
to  themselves  so  stern  an  image  of  one  in  himself  so  loving.  Yet 
both  were  alike  natural  to  him  ;  the  severity  and  the  playfulness 
expressing  each  in  their  turn  the  earnestness  with  which  he  en- 
tered into  the  business  of  life,  and  the  enjoyment  with  which  he 
entered  into  its  rest;  whilst  the  common  principle,  which  linked 
both  together,  made  every  closer  approach  to  him  in  his  private 
life  a  means  for  better  understanding  him  in  his  public  relations. 

Enough,  however,  may  perhaps  be  said  to  recall  something  at 


LIFE    OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


151 


least  of  its  outward  aspect.  There  were  his  hours  of  thorough  re- 
laxation, when  he  would  throw  off  all  thoughts  of  the  school  and 
of  public  matters — his  quiet  walks  by  the  side  of  his  wife's  pony, 
when  he  would  enter  into  the  full  enjoyment  of  air  and  exercise, 
and  the  outward  face  of  nature,  observing  with  distinct  pleasure  each 
symptom  of  the  burst  of  spring  or  of  the  richness  of  summer—"  feel- 
ing like  a  horse  pawing  the  ground,  impatient  to  be  off," — "as  if 
the  very  act  of  existence  was  an  hourly  pleasure  to  him."  There 
was  the  cheerful  voice  that  used  to  go  sounding  through  the  house 
in  the  early  morning,  as  he  went  round  to  call  his  children  ;  the 
new  spirits  which  he  seemed  to  gather  from  the  mere  glimpses  of 
them  in  the  midst  of  his  occupations — the  increased  merriment  of 
all  in  any  game  in  which  he  joined — the  happy  walks  on  which 
he  would  take  them  in  the  fields  and  hedges,  hunting  for  flowers— r 
the  yearly  excursions  to  look  in  a  neighbouring  clay-pit  for  the 
earliest  coltsfoot,  with  the  mock  siege  that  followed.  Nor,  again, 
was  the  sense  of  his  authority  as  a  father,  ever  lost  in  his  playful- 
ness as  a  companion.  His  personal  superintendence  of  their  ordi- 
nary instructions  was  necessarily  limited  by  his  other  engagements, 
but  it  was  never  wholly  laid  aside ;  in  the  later  years  of  his  life  it 
was  his  custom  to  read  the  Psalms  and  Lessons  of  the  day  with 
his  family  every  morning  ;  and  the  common  reading  of  a  chapter 
in  the  Bible  every  Sunday  evening,  with  repetition  of  hymns  or 
parts  of  Scripture,  by  every  member  of  the  family — the  devotion 
with  which  he  would  himself  repeat  his  favourite  poems  from  the 
Christian  Year,  or  his  favourite  passages  from  the  Gospels— the 
same  attitude  of  deep  attention  in  listening  to  the  questions  of  his 
youngest  children,  the  same  reverence  in  answering  their  difficul- 
ties, that  he  would  have  shown  to  the  most  advanced  of  his  friends 
or  his  scholars — form  a  picture  not  soon  to  pass  away  from  the 
mind  of  any  one  who  was  ever  present.  But  his  teaching  in  his 
family  was  naturally  not  confined  to  any  particular  occasions ; 
they  looked  to  him  for  information  and  advice  at  all  times  ;  and  a 
word  of  authority  from  him  was  a  law  not  to  be  questioned  for  a 
moment.  And  with  the  tenderness  which  seemed  to  be  alive  to  all 
their  wants  and  wishes,  there  was  united  that  peculiar  sense  of 
solemnity,  with  which  in  his  eyes  the  very  idea  of  a  family  life 
was  invested.  "  I  do  not  wonder,"  he  said,  "  that  it  was  thought 
a  great  misfortune  to  die  childless  in  old  times,  when  they  had  not 
fuller  light — it  seems  so  completely  wiping  a  man  out  of  existence." 
The  anniversaries  of  domestic  events — the  passing  away  of  suc- 
cessive generations — the  entrance  of  his  sons  on  the  several  stages 
of  their  education, — struck  on  the  deepest  chords  of  his  nature, 
and  made  him  blend  with  every  prospect  of  the  future,  the  keen 
sense  of  the  continuance  (so  to  speak)  of  his  own  existence  in.  the 
good  and  evil  fortunes  of  his  children,  and  to  unite  the  thought  of 
them  with  the  yet  more  solemn  feeling,  with  which  he  was  at  all 
times  wont  to  regard  "  the  blessing "  of  "  a  whole  house  trans- 
planted entire  from  earth  to  heaven,  without  one  failure." 


152 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


In  his  own  domestic  happiness  he  never  lost  sight  of  his  early 
friends.  "  He  was  attached  to  his  family,"  it  was  trnly  said  of  him 
by  Archbishop  Whately,  as  if  he  had  no  friends  ;  to  his  friends,  as 
if  he  had  no  family  ;  and,"  he  adds,  "  to  his  country,  as  if  he  had 
no  friends  or  relations."  Debarred  as  he  was  from  frequent  inter- 
course with  most  of  them  by  his  and  their  occupations,  he  made  it 
part  of  the  regular  business  of  his  life  to  keep  up  a  correspondence 
with  them.  "  I  never  do,"  he  said,  "  and  I  trust  I  never  shall  ex- 
cuse myself  for  not  writing  to  old  and  dear  friends,  for  it  is  really 
a  dutv  which  it  is  mere  indolence  and  thoughtlessness  to  neg- 
lect." "  The  very  aspect  of  their  several  homes  lived  as  distinct 
images  in  his  mind,  and  seemed  to  have  an  equal  claim  on  his 
interest.  To  men  of  such  variety  of  opinion  and  character,  that 
the  very  names  of  some  of  them  are  identified  with  measures  and 
views  the  most  opposite  that  good  men  can  entertain,  he  retained 
to  the  end  a  strong  and  almost  equal  affection.  The  absence  of 
greater  mutual  sympathy  was  to  him  almost  the  only  shadow 
thrown  over  his  happy  life  ;  no  difference  of  opinion  ever  destroyed 
his  desire  for  intercourse  with  them ;  and  where,  in  spite  of  his 
own  efforts  to  continue  it,  it  was  so  interrupted,  the  subject  was  so 
painful  to  him,  that  even  with  those  most  intimate  with  him,  he 
could  hardly  bear  to  allude  to  it. 

How  lively  was  his  interest  in  the  state  of  England  generally, 
and  especially  of  the  lower  orders,  will  appear  elsewhere.  But 
the  picture  of  his  ordinary  life  would  be  incomplete  without  men- 
tion of  his  intercourse  with  the  poor.  He  purposely  abstained,  as 
will  be  seen,  from  mixing  much  in  the  affairs  of  the  town  and 
neighbourhood  of  Rugby.  But  he  was  always  ready  to  assist  in 
matters  of  local  charity  or  usefulness,  giving  lectures,  for  example, 
before  the  Mechanics'  Institutes  at  Rugby  and  Lutterworth,  writing 
tracts  on  the  appearance  of  the  cholera  in  the  vicinity,  and,  after 
the  establishment  of  the  railway  station  at  half  a  mile  from  the 
town,  procuring  the  sanction  of  the  Bishop  for  the  performance  of 
a  short  service  there  on  Sunday  by  himself  and  the  assistant  mas- 
ters in  turn.  And  with  the  poor  generally,  though  his  acquaint- 
ance was  naturally  much  more  limited  than  it  had  been  in  the 
village  of  Laleham,  yet  with  some  few,  chiefly  aged  persons  in  the 
almshouse  of  the  place,  he  made  a  point  of  keeping  up  a  frequent 
and  familiar  intercourse. 

In  this  intercourse,  sometimes  in  conversations  with  them  as  he 
met  or  overtook  them  alone  on  the  road,  usually  in  such  visits  as 
he  could  pay  to  them  in  his  spare  moments  of  relaxation,  he  as- 
sumed less  of  the  character  of  a  teacher  than  most  clergymen  would 
have  thought  right,  reading  to  them  occasionally,  but  generally 
talking  to  them  with  the  manner  of  a  friend  and  an  equal.  This 
resulted  partly  from  the  natural  reserve  and  shyness  which  made 
him  shrink  from  entering  on  sacred  subjects  with  comparative 
strangers,  and  which,  though  he  latterly  somewhat  overcame  it, 
almost  disqualified  him,  in  his  own  judgment,  from  taking  charge 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  I53 

of  a  parish.  But  it  was  also  the  effect  of  his  reluctance  to  address 
them  in  a  more  authoritative  or  professional  tone  than  he  would 
have  used  towards  persons  of  his  own  rank.  Feeling  keenly  what 
seemed  to  him  at  once  the  wrong  and  the  mischief  done  by  the  too 
wide  separation  between  the  higher  and  lower  orders,  he  wished  to 
visit  them  "  as  neighbours,  without  always  seeming  bent  on  reliev- 
ing or  instructing  them  ;'"  and  could  not  bear  to  use  language 
which  to  any  one  in  a  higher  station  would  have  been  thought  an 
interference.  With  the  servants  of  his  household,  for  the  same 
reasons,  he  was  in  the  habit,  whether  in  travelling  or  in  his  own 
house,  of  consulting  their  accommodation  and  speaking  to  them 
familiarly  as  to  so  many  members  of  the  domestic  circle.  And  in 
all  this,  writes  one  who  knew  well  his  manner  to  the  poor,  "  there 
was  no  affectation  of  condescension,  it  was  a  manly  address  to  his 
fellow  men,  as  man  addressing  man."  "  I  never  knew  such  a 
humble  man  as  the  Doctor,"  said  the  parish  clerk  at  Laleham,  after 
he  had  revisited  it  from  Rugby  ;  "he  comes  and  shakes  us  by  the 
hand  as  if  he  was  one  of  us."  "  He  used  to  come  into  my  house," 
said  an  old  woman  near  his  place  in  Westmoreland,  "  and  talk  to 
me  as  if  I  was  a  lady."  Often,  no  doubt,  this  was  not  appreciated 
by  the  poor,  and  might,  at  times,  be  embarrassing  to  himself,  and  it 
is  said  that  he  was  liable  to  be  imposed  upon  by  them,  and  greatly 
to  overrate  their  proficiency  in  moral  and  religious  excellence.  But 
he  felt  this  intercourse  to  be  peculiarly  needful  for  one  engaged  in 
occupations  such  as  his ;  to  the  remembrance  of  the  good  poor, 
whom  he  visited  at  Rugby,  he  often  recurred  when  absent  from 
them,  and  nothing  can  exceed  the  regret  which  they  testify  at  his 
loss,  and  the  grateful  affection  with  which  they  still  speak  of  him, 
pointing  with  delight  to  the  seat  which  he  used  to  occupy  by  their 
firesides :  one  of  them  especially,  an  old  alms  woman,  who  died  a 
few  months  after  his  own  decease,  up  to  the  last  moment  of  con- 
sciousness never  ceasing  to  think  of  his  visits  to  her,  and  of  the 
hope  with  which  she  looked  forward  now  to  seeing  his  face  once 
more  again. 

Closely  as  he  was  bound  to  Rugby  by  these  and  similar  bonds 
of  social  and  familiar  life,  and  yet  more  closely  by  the  charm,  with 
which  its  mere  outward  aspect  and  localities  were  invested  by  his 
interest  in  the  school,  both  as  an  independent  institution  and  as  his 
own  sphere  of  duty,  yet  the  place  in  itself  never  had  the  same 
strong  hold  on  his  affections  as  Oxford  or  Laleham,  and  his  holi- 
days were  almost  always  spent  away  from  Rugby,  either  in  short 
tours,  or  in  later  years  at  his  Westmoreland  home,  Fox  How,  a 
small  estate  between  Rydal  and  Ambleside,  which  he  purchased 
in  1832,  with  the  view  of  providing  for  himself  a  retreat,  in  case  of 
his  retirement  from  the  school,  or  for  his  family  in  case  of  his  death. 
The  monotonous  character  of  the  midland  scenery  of  Warwick- 
shire was  to  him,  with  his  strong  love  of  natural  beauty  and  va- 
riety, absolutely  repulsive  ;  there  was  something  almost  touching 

1  Sermons,  vol.  ii.  p.  411. 
11 


154 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


in  the  eagerness  with  which,  amidst  that  "endless  succession  of 
fields  and  hedge-iows,"  he  would  make  the  most  of  any  features  of 
a  higher  order ;  in  the  pleasure  with  which  he  would  cherish  the 
few  places  where  the  current  of  the  Avon  was  perceptible,  or  where 
a  glimpse  of  the  horizon  could  be  discerned  ;  in  the  humorous  des- 
pair with  which  he  would  gaze  on  the  dull  expanse  of  fields  east- 
ward from  Rugby.  "  It  is  no  wonder  we  do  not  like  looking  that 
way,  when  one  considers  that  there  is  nothing  fine  between  us  and 
the  Ural  mountains.  Conceive  what  you  look  over,  for  you  just 
miss  Sweden,  and  look  over  Holland,  the  north  of  Germany,  and 
the  centre  of  Russia."  With  this  absence  of  local  attraction  in  the 
place,  and  with  the  conviction  that  his  occupations  and  official  sta- 
tion must  make  him  look  for  his  future  home  elsewhere,  "I  feel," 
he  said,  "  that  I  love  Middlesex  and  Westmoreland,  but  I  care  no- 
thing for  Warwickshire,  and  am  in  it  like  a  plant  sunk  in  the 
ground  in  a  pot,  my  roots  never  strike  beyond  the  pot,  and  I  could 
be  transplanted  at  any  minute  without  tearing  or  severing  of  my 
fibres.  To  the  pot  itself,  which  is  the  school,  I  could  cling  very 
lovingly,  were  it  not  that  the  laborious  nature  of  the  employment 
makes  me  feel  that  it  can  be  only  temporary,  and  that,  if  I  live  to 
old  age,  my  age  could  not  be  spent  in  my  present  situation." 

Fox  How  accordingly  became  more  and  more  the  centre  of  all 
his  local  and  domestic  affections.  "  It  is  with  a  mixed  feeling  of 
solemnity  and  tenderness,"  he  said,  "  that  I  regard  our  mountain 
nest,  whose  surpassing  sweetness,  I  think  I  may  safely  say,  adds 
a  positive  happiness  to  every  one  of  my  waking  hours  passed  in 
it."  When  absent  from  it,  it  still,  he  said,  "  dwelt  in  his  memory 
as  a  vision  of  beauty  from  one  vacation  to  another,"  and  when 
present  at  it  he  felt  that  "  no  hasty  or  excited  admiration  of  a 
tourist  could  be  compared  with  the  quiet  and  hourly  delight  of 
having  the  mountains  and  streams  as  familiar  objects,  connected 
with  the  enjoyments  of  home,  one's  family,  one's  books,  and  one's 
friends," — "  associated  with  our  work-day  thoughts  as  well  as 
our  gala-day  ones." 

Then  it' was  that,  as  he  sat  working  in  the  midst  of  his  family, 
"  never  raising  his  eyes  from  the  paper  to  the  window  without  an 
influx  of  ever  new  delights,"  he  found-  that  leisure  for  writing, 
which  he  so  much  craved  at  Rugby.  Then  it  was  that  he  enjoyed 
the  entire  relaxation,  which  he  so  much  needed  after  his  school 
occupations,  whether  in  the  journeys  of  coming  and  returning, 
those  long  journeys,  which,  before  they  were  shortened  by  railway 
travelling,  were  to  him,  he  used  to  say,  the  twelve  most  restful 
days  of  the  whole  year  ; — or  in  the  birthday  festivities  of  his  chil- 
dren, and  the  cheerful  evenings  when  all  subjects  were  discussed, 
from  the  gravest  to  the  lightest,  and  when  he  would  read  to  them 
his  favourite  stories  from  Herodotus,  or  his  favourite  English  poets. 
Most  of  all,  perhaps,  was  to  be  observed  his  delight  in  those  long 
mountain  walks,  when  they  would  start  with  their  provisions  for 
the  day,  himself  the  guide  and  life  of  the  party,  always  on  the 
look-out  how  best  to  break  the  ascent  by  gentle  stages,  comforting 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  155 

the  little  ones  in  their  falls,  and  helping  forward  those  who  were 
tired,  himself  always  keeping  with  the  laggers,  that  none  might 
strain  their  strength  by  trying  to  be  in  front  with  him — and  then, 
when  his  assistance  was  not  wanted,  the  liveliest  of  all ;  his  step 
so  light,  his  eye  so  quick  in  finding  flowers  to  take  home  to  those 
who  were  not  of  the  party. 

Year  by  year  bound  him  with  closer  ties  to  his  new  home  ; 
not  only  Fox  How  itself  with  each  particular  tree,  the  growth  of 
which  he  had  watched,  and  each  particular  spot  in  the  grounds, 
associated  by  him  with  the  playful  names  of  his  nine  children ; 
but  also  the  whole  valley  in  which  it  lay  became  consecrated  with 
something  of  a  domestic  feeling.  Rydal  Chapel,  with  the  congre- 
gation to  which  he  had  so  ofen  preached — the  new  circle  of  friends 
and  acquaintance  with  whom  he  kept  up  so  familiar  an  inter- 
course— the  gorges  and  rocky  pools  which  owed  their  nomencla- 
ture to  him,  all  became  part  of  his  habitual  thoughts.  He  delight- 
ed to  derive  his  imagery  from  the  hills  and  lakes  of  Westmore- 
land, and  to  trace  in  them  the  likenesses  of  his  favourite  scenes  in 
poetry  and  history ;  even  their  minutest  features  were  of  a  kind 
that  were  most  attractive  to  him  ;  "  the  running  streams  "  which 
were  to  him  "  the  most  beautiful  objects  in  nature  ;" — the  wild 
flowers  on  the  mountain  sides,  which  were  to  him,  he  said,  ''his 
music ;"  and  which,  whether  in  their  scarcity  at  Rugby,  or  their 
profusion  in  Westmoreland,  "  loving  them,"  as  he  used  to  say,  "  as 
a  child  loves  them,"  he  could  not  bear  to  see  removed  from  their 
natural  places  by  the  wayside,  where  others  might  enjoy  them  as 
well  as  himself.  The.  very  peacefulness  of  all  the  historical  and 
moral  associations  of  the  scenery — free  alike  from  the  remains  of 
feudal  ages  in  the  past,  and  suggesting  comparatively  so  little  of 
suffering  or  evil  in  the  present, — rendered  doubly  grateful  to  him 
the  refreshment  which  he  there  found  from  the  rough  world  in  the 
school,  or  the  sad  feelings  awakened  in  his  mind  by  the  thoughts 
of  his  Church  and  country.  There  he  hoped,  when  the  time 
should  have  come  for  his  retreat  from  Rugby,  to  spend  his  declining 
years.  Other  visions,  indeed,  of  a  more  practical  and  laborious 
life,  from  time  to  time  passed  before  him,  but  Fox  How  was  the 
image,  which  most  constantly  presented  itself  to  him  in  all  pros- 
pects for  the  future ;  there  he  intended  to  have  lived  in  peace, 
maintaining  his  connexion  with  the  rising  generation  by  receiving 
pupils  from  the  Universities  ;  there,  under  the  shade  of  the  trees 
of  his  own  planting,  h^e  hoped  in  his  old  age  to  give  to  the  world 
the  fruits  of  his  former  experience  and  labours,  by  executing  those 
works  for  which  at  Rugby  he  felt  himself  able  only  to  prepare  the 
way,  or  lay  the  first  foundations,  and  never  again  leave  his  retire- 
ment till  (to  use  his  own  expression)  "  his  bones  should  go  to 
Grasmere  churchyard,  to  lie  under  the  yews  which  Wordsworth 
planted,  and  to  have  the  Rotha,  with  its  deep  and  silent  pools, 
passing  by. 


CHAPTER  V. 


LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE,  AUGUST  1828  TO  AUGUST  1830. 

The  two  first  years  of  Dr.  Arnold's  life  at  Rugby  remarkably 
exhibit  the  natural  sanguineness  of  his  character,  whether  in  the 
feeling  with  which  he  entered  on  the  business  of  the  school,  or  in 
the  hopefulness  with  which  he  regarded  public  affairs,  and  which, 
more  or  less,  pervaded  all  that  he  wrote  at  this  time. 

The  first  volume  of  sermons,  and  the  first  volume  of  his  edition 
of  Thucydides,  containing,  as  they  did,  in  many  respects  the  basis 
of  his  theological  and  historical  views,  were  published  in  February, 
1829,  and  May,  1830  ;  and  little  need  be  added  to  what  has 
already  been  said  of  them.  To  the  latter,  indeed,  an  additional 
interest  is  imparted  from  its  being  the  first  attempt  in  English  phi- 
lology to  investigate  not  merely  the  phrases  and  formulae,  but  the 
general  principles  of  the  Greek  language,  and  to  illustrate,  not 
merely  the  words,  but  the  history  and  geography  of  a  Greek  histo- 
rian. And  in  the  Essay  on  the  different  periods  of  national  exist- 
ence appended  to  this  first  volume,  but,  in  fact,  belonging  more  to 
his  general  views  of  history  and  politics  than  to  any  particular 
illustration  of  Thucydides,  is  brought  out  more  forcibly  than  in 
any  other  of  his  writings,  his  belief  in  the  progress  and  inherent 
excellence  of  popular  principles  ;  in  the  distinct  stages  of  civiliza- 
tion through  which  nations  have  to  pass  ;  and  in  the  philosophical 
divisions  of  ancient  and  modern  history,  of  which  he  made  so 
much  use  in  treating  of  either  of  them.  But  the  work  which 
naturally  excited  most  public  attention,  was  a  pamphlet  on  "  the 
Christian  Duty  of  conceding  the  claims  of  the  Roman  Catholics," 
published  in  February,  1829.  To  those  who  knew  him  in  later 
life,  it  may  appear  strange  that  he  should  have  treated  at  length  of 
the  question  of  Ireland,  which  he  was  accustomed  to  shun  as  a 
problem  of  inextricable  difficulty,  and  on  which  nothing  but  a 
sense  of  justice  could  ever  prevail  upon  him  to  enter.  But  this 
sense  of  justice  was,  at  this  time,  quickened  by  the  deep  conviction 
which,  for  some  years  past,  he  had  entertained  of  the  alarming 
state  of  the  Irish  nation.  "  There  is  more  to  be  done  there,"  he 
writes  in  1828,  from  Laleham,  "  than  in  any  corner  of  the  world. 
I  had,  at  one  time,  a  notion  of  going  over  there  and  taking  Irish 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  157 

pupils,  to  try  what  one  man  could  do  towards  civilizing  the  people, 
by  trying  to  civilize  and  Christianize  their  gentry."  And  the  par- 
ticular crisis  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Relief  Act  was  exactly  one  of 
those  occasions  which  brought  him  into  direct  collision,  both  with 
the  tone  of  the  Liberal  party,  who  assumed  that,  as  being  a  politi- 
cal measure,  it  could  not  be  argued  on  religious  grounds  ;  and  of 
the  Tory  party,  who  assumed  that,  as  being  a  religious  question^ 
it  was  one  on  which  the  almost  united  authority  of  the  English 
clergy  ought  to  have  decisive  weight ;  whereas,  his  own  views 
of  course  led  him  to  maintain  that,  being  a  great  national  question 
of  right  and  wrong,  it  must,  on  the  one  hand,  be  argued  on  Chris- 
tian grounds,  and  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the  clergy  would  not 
be  the  best  judges  of  it,  because  "the  origin,  rights,  and  successive 
revolutions  of  society  were  subjects  which  they  avowedly  neg- 
lected to  study."  The  pamphlet  was  published  at  so  late  a  stage 
of  the  controversy,  that  it  had  not  time  to  reach  a  second  edition 
before  the  act  was  passed.  But  the  grounds  of  solemn  duty  on 
which  his  vindication  of  the  Relief  Act  was  based,  as  the  best 
mode  of  repairing  the  sin  and  mischief,  never  yet  effaced,  of  the 
original  conquest  of  Ireland,  and  as  a  right,  which,  as  being  still  a 
distinct  national  society,  the  Irish  people  justly  claimed, — attracted 
considerable  attention.  Other  parts,  such  as  that  in  which  he  de- 
nied the  competence  of  the  clergy  to  pronounce  upon  historical 
questions,  created  an  impression  against  him  in  the  great  body  of 
his  profession,  which,  perhaps,  was  never  wholly  removed.  Its 
intrinsic  interest,  independent  of  the  particular  controversy,  con- 
sists in  its  being  his  first  and  most  emphatic  protest  against  the 
divorce  of  religion  and  politics,  and  the  most  complete  statement 
of  his  abstract  views  of  political  science,  as  his  Appendix  to  Thu- 
cydides  furnished  his  statement  of  their  historical  development. 


I.      TO    J.    T.    COLERIDGE,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  August  29,  1828. 

Here  we  are  actually  at  Rugby,  and  the  school  will  open  to- 
morrow. I  cannot  tell  you  with  what  deep  regret  we  left  Laleham,  where 
we  had  been  so  peaceful  and  so  happy,  and  left  my  mother,  aunt,  and  sisters  for 
the  first  time  in  my  life,  except  during  my  school  and  college  absences.  It 
was  quite  "  feror  exul  in  altum,"  &c,  but  then  we  both  looked  upon  Rugby 
as  on  our  Italy,  and  entered  it,  I  think,  with  hope  and  with  thankfulness.  .  .  . 
But  the  things  which  I  have  had  to  settle,  and  the  people  whom  I  have  had 
to  see  on  business,  have  been  almost  endless ;  to  me,  unused  as  I  was  to 
business,  it  seemed  quite  a  chaos ;  but,  thank  God,  being  in  high  health 
and  spirits,  and  gaining  daily  more  knowledge  of  the  state  of  affairs,  I  get 
on  tolerably  well.  Next  week,  however,  will  be  the  grand  experiment ;  and 
I  look  to  it  naturally  with  great  anxiety.  I  trust,  I  feel  how  great  and  sol- 
emn a  duty  I  have  to  fulfil,  and  that  I  shall  be  enabled  to  fulfil  it  by  that 
help  which  can  alone  give  the  "  Spirit  of  power  and  love,  and  of  a  sound 
mind ;"  the  three  great  requisites,  I  imagine,  in  a  schoolmaster. 

You  need  not  fear  my  reforming  furiously ;  there,  I  think,  I  can  assure 
you;   but,  of  my  success  in  introducing  a  religious  principle  into  education, 


158  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

I  must  be  doubtful ;  it  is  my  most  earnest  wish,  and  I  pray  God  that  it  may 
be  my  constant  labour  and  prayer  ;  but  to  do  this  would  be  to  succeed  be- 
yond all  my  hopes ;  it  would  be  a  happiness  so  great,  that  I  think  the  world 
would  yield  me  nothing  comparable  to  it.  To  do  it,  however  imperfectly, 
would  far  more  than  repay  twenty  years  of  labour  and  anxiety. 

Saturday,  August  30th.     I  have  been  receiving,  this  morning,  a  constant 

succession  of  visitors,  and  now,  before  I  go  out  to  return .  August  31st. 

I  was  again  interrupted,  and  now,  I  think  that  I  had  better  at  once  finish  my 
letter.  I  have  entered  twenty-nine  new  boys,  and  have  got  four  more  to 
enter ;  and  I  have  to  day  commenced  my  business  by  calling  over  names 
and  going  into  chapel,  where  I  was  glad  to  see  that  the  boys  behaved  very 
well.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  odd  it  seems  to  me,  recalling,  at  once,  my 
school-days  more  vividly  than  I  could  have  thought  possible. 


II.       TO    REV.    F.    C.    BLACKSTONE. 

Rugby,  September  23,  1628. 

It  is,  indeed,  a  long  time  since  I  wrote  to  you,  and  there  has  been  much 
of  intense  interest  in  the  period  which  has  elapsed  since  I  did  write.  But  it 
has  been  quite  an  engrossing  occupation ;  and  Thucydides  and  every  thing 
else  has  gone  to  sleep  while  I  have  been  attending  to  it.  Now  it  is  becom- 
ing more  familiar  to  me,  but  still  the  actual  employment  of  time  is  very 
great,  and  the  matters  for  thought  which  it  affords  are  almost  endless. 
Still  I  get  my  daily  exercise  and  bathing  very  happily,  so  that  I  have  been, 
and  am,  perfectly  well,  and  equal  in  strength  and  spirits  to  the  work.     .     . 

.  .  .  .  For  myself,  I  like  it  hitherto  beyond  my  expectation,  but,  of 
course,  a  month  is  a  very  short  time  to  judge  from.  [After  speaking  of  the 
details  of  the  school,  and  expressing  his  generally  favourable  impression  of 
it.]  I  am  trying  to  establish  something  of  a  friendly  intercourse  with  the 
Sixth  Form,  by  asking  them  in  succession,  in  parties  of  four,  to  dinner  with 
us,  and  I  have  them  each  separately  up  into  my  room  to  look  over  their  ex- 
ercises  I  mean  to  bring  in  something  like  "  gatherings  "  be- 
fore it  is  long,  for  they  understand  that  I  have  not  done  with  my  alterations, 
nor  probably  ever  shall  have ;  and  I  am  going  to  have  an  Examination  for 
every  form  in  the  school,  at  the  end  of  the  short  half-year,  in  all  the  business 
of  the  half-year,  Divinity,  Greek  and  Latin,  Arithmetic,  History,  Geogra- 
phy, and  Chronology,  with  first  and  second  classes,  and  prize  books  for  those 
who  do  well.  I  find  that  my  power  is  perfectly  absolute,  so  that  I  have  no 
excuse  if  I  do  not  try  to  make  the  school  something  like  my  beau  ideal — it 
is  sure  to  fall  far  enough  short  in  reality.  There  has  been  no  flogging  yet, 
(and  I  hope  that  there  will  be  none,)  and  surprisingly  few  irregularities.  I 
chastise,  at  first,  by  very  gentle  impositions,  which  are  raised  for  a  repeti- 
tion of  offences — flogging  will  be  only  my  ratio  ultima — and  talking  I  shall 
try  to  the  utmost.  I  believe  that  boys  may  be  governed  a  great  deal  by 
gentle  methods  and  kindness,  and  appealing  to  their  better  feelings,  if  you 
show  that  you  are  not  afraid  of  them :  I  have  seen  great  boys,  six  feet  high, 
shed  tears  when  I  have  sent  for  them  up  into  my  room  and  spoken  to  them 
quietly,  in  private,  for  not  knowing  their  lesson,  and  I  have  found  that  this 
treatment  produced  its  effects  afterwards,  in  making  them  do  better.  But, 
of  course,  deeds  must  second  words  when  needful,  or  words  will  soon  be 
laughed  at. 


III.    TO    THE    SAME. 

Laleham,  Dec.  19, 1828. 

I  should  have   greatly  enjoyed  seeing  you  again  and  seeing 

you  with  your  wife,  and  at  your  own  home,  to  say  nothing  of  resuming 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD..  159 

some  of  the  matters  we  discussed  a  little  in  the  summer.  The  constitutional 
tone  of  different  minds  naturally  gives  a  different  complexion  to  their  view 
of  things,  even  when  they  may  agree  in  the  main  ;  and  in  discussing  mat- 
ters besides,  one,  or  at  least  /,  am  apt  to  dwell  on  my  points  of  difference 
with  a  man  rather  than  on  my  points  of  agreement  with  him,  because,  in 
one  case,  I  may  get  my  own  opinions  modified  and  modify  his — in  the  other, 
we  only  end  where  we  began.  I  confess  that  it  does  pain  me  when  I  find  my 
friends  shocked  at  the  expression  of  my  sentiments,  because,  if  a  man  had 
entered  on  the  same  particular  inquiry  himself,  although  he  should  have 
come  to  a  wholly  different  conclusion  at  last,  still  if  he  gave  me  credit  for 
sincerity,  he  ought  not  to  be  shocked  at  my  not  having  as  yet  come  to  the 
same  conclusion  with  himself,  and  would  rather  quietly  try  to  bring  me 
there — and  if  he  had  not  inquired  into  the  subject,  then  he  certainly  ought 
not  to  be  shocked  ;  as  giving  me  credit  for  the  same  fundamental  principles 
with  himself,  he  ought  not  to  think  that  non-inquiry  would  lead  to  truth,  and 
inquiry  to  error.  In  your  case,  I  know  that  your  mind  is  entirely  candid  ; 
and  that  no  man  will  conduct  an  inquiry  with  more  perfect  fairness  ;  you 
have,  therefore,  the  less  reason  for  abstaining  from  inquiry  altogether.  I 
can  assure  you,  that  I  never  remember  to  have  held  a  conversation  such  as 
those  which  we  had  last  summer,  without  deriving  benefit  in  some  way  or 
other  from  the  remarks  urged  in  opposition  to  my  own  views  ;  very  often 
they  have  modified  my  opinions,  sometimes  entirely  changed  them — and 
when  they  have  done  neither,  they  have  yet  led  me  to  consider  myself  and 
my  own  state  of  mind ;  lest  even  whilst  holding  the  truth,  I  might  have 
bought  the  possession  of  it  too  dearly  (I  mean  of  course  in  lesser  matters) 
by  exercising  the  understanding  too  much,  and  the  affections  too  little. 


IV.      TO    MRS.    EVELYN. 

(On  the  death  of  her  husband.) 

Ru?by,  February  23,  1829. 

I  need  not,  I  trust,  say  how  deeply  I  was  shocked  and  grieved  by  the 
intelligence  contained  in  your  letter.  I  was  totally  ignorant  of  your  most 
heavy  loss,  and  it  was  one  of  the  hopes  in  which  I  have  often  fondly  indulged, 
that  I  might  some  time  or  other  again  meet  one  who  I  believe  was  my 
earliest  friend,  and  for  whom  I  had  never  ceased  to  entertain  a  strong  ad- 
miration and  regard.  I  heard  of  him  last  winter  from  a  common  friend 
who  had  been  indebted  to  his  kindness,  and  whom  I  have  also  lost  within 
the  last  few  months,  Mr.  Lawes,  of  Marlborough ;  and  since  that  time  I 
had  again  lost  sight  of  him,  till  I  received  from  you  the  account  of  his 
death.  He  must,  indeed,  be  an  irreparable  loss  to  all  his  family;  for  I  well 
remember  the  extraordinary  promise  which  he  gave  as  a  boy.  of  mingled 
nobleness  and  gentleness  of  heart,  as  well  as  of  very  great  powers  of  un- 
derstanding. These  were  visible  to  me  even  at  an  earlier  period  of  his  life 
than  you  are  perhaps  aware  of;  for  it  was  not  at  Harrow  that  I  knew  him, 
but  at  Warminster,  when  we  were  both  very  young,  and  since  the  year 
1806,  I  have  never  seen  him ;  but  the  impression  of  his  character  has  re- 
mained strongly  marked  on  my  memory  ever  since,  for  I  never  knew  so 
bright  a  promise  in  any  other  boy  ;  I  never  knew  any  spirit  at  that  age  so 
pure  and  generous,  and  so  free  from  the  ordinary  meannesses,  coarsenesses, 
and  littlenesses  of  boyhood.  It  will  give  me  great,  pleasure  to  comply  with 
your  wishes  with  regard  to  an  inscription  to  his  memory,  if  you  will  be  kind 
enough  to  furnish  me  with  some  particulars  of  his  life  and  character  in 
later  years  ;  for  mine  is  but  a  knowledge  of  his  boyhood,  and  I  am  sure  that 
his  manhood  must  have  been  even  still  better  worth  knowing.  You  will,  how- 
ever, I  am  sure,  allow  me  to  state  in  perfect  sincerity,  that  I  feel  vey  ill 
qualified  to  write  any  thing  of  this  nature,  and  that  it  requires  a  peculiar 


160  LIFE  DF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

talent  which  I  feel  myself  wholly  to  want.  I  should  give  you,  I  fear,  but  a 
very  bad  inscription ;  but  if  you  really  wish  me  to  attempt  it,  I  will  do  the 
best  I  can  to  express  at  least  my  sincere  regard  and  respect  for  the  memory 
of  my  earliest  friend.1 

Let  me  thank  you  sincerely  for  all  the  particulars  which  you  have  been 
kind  enough  to  give  me  in  your  letter. 


V.      TO    THE    REV.  JULIUS    HARE. 

Rugby,  March  30,  1820. 

I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  sending  me  your  Defence  of 

Niebuhr ;  and  still  more  for  the  most  kind  and  gratifying  manner  in  which 
you  have  mentioned  me  in  it ;  there  are  few  things  more  delightful  than  to 
be  so  spoken  of  by  those  whom  we  entirely  respect,  and  whose  good  opinion 
and  regard  we  have  wished  to  gain. 

I  should  not  have  troubled  you  with  my  pamphlet  on  the  Catholic  ques- 
tion, had  it  not  involved  points  beyond  the  mere  question  now  at  issue,  and 
on  which  I  was  desirous  to  offer  you  some  explanation,  as  I  think  our  opin- 
ions respecting  them  are  widely  different.  From  what  you  say  in  the 
Guesses  at  Truth,  and  again  in  your  Defence  of  Niebuhr,  you  appear  to  me 
to  look  upon  the  past  with  feelings  of  reverence,  in  which  I  cannot  partici- 
pate. It  is  not  that  I  think  we  are  better  than  our  fathers  in  proportion  to 
our  lights,  or  that  our  powers  are  at  all  greater ;  on  the  contrary,  they  de- 
serve more  admiration,  considering  the  difficulties  they  had  to  struggle  with ; 
yet  still  I  cannot  but  think,  that  the  habit  of  looking  back  upon  them  as 
models,  and  more  especially  in  all  political  institutions,  as  the  surest  way  to 
fetter  our  own  progress,  and  to  deprive  us  of  the  advantages  of  our  own  su- 
perior experience,  which,  it  is  no  boast  to  say,  that  we  possess,  but  rather  a 
most  disgraceful  reproach,  since  we  use  them  so  little.  The  error  of  the  last 
century  appears  to  me  to  have  been  this,  that  they  undervalued  their  ances- 
tors without  duly  studying  antiquity ;  thus  they  naturally  did  not  gain  the 
experience  which  they  ought  to  have  done,  and  were  confident  even  whilst 
digging  from  under  their  feet  the  ground  on  which  their  confidence  might 
have  rested  justly.  Yet  still,  even  in  this  respect,  the  16th  and  17th  centu- 
ries have  little  cause,  I  think,  to  insult  the  18th.  The  great  writers  of  those 
times  read,  indeed,  enormously,  but  surely  their  critical  spirit  was  in  no  pro- 
portion to  their  reading — and  thus  the  true  experience  to  be  gained  from  the 
study  of  antiquity  was  not  gained,  because  antiquity  was  not  fully  under- 
stood. It  is  not,  I  believe,  that  I  estimate  our  actual  doings  more  highly 
than  you  do  ;  but,  I  believe,  I  estimate  those  of  our  fathers  less  highly ;  and 
instead  of  looking  upon  them  as  in  any  degree  a  standard,  I  turn  instinctively 
to  that  picture  of  entire  perfection  which  thg  Gospel  holds  out,  and  from 
which  I  cannot  but  think  that  the  state  of  things  in  times  past  was  further 
removed  even  than  ours  is  now,  although  our  little  may  be  more  inexcusable 
han  their  less  was  in  them.     And,  in  particular,  I  confess,  that  if  I  were 

1   The  following  was  the  inscription  which  he  sent ; — 

TO  THE   MEMORY  OF 

GEORGE  EVELYN,  ESQ., 

ETC.,  ETC.,  ETC. 

HIS  EARLY  YEARS  GAVE  A  BEAUTIFUL  PROMISE 

OF    VIGOUR    OF    UNDERSTANDING,   KINDNESS    OF    HEART, 

AND  CHRISTIAN  NUBLENESS  OF  PRINCIPLE: 

HIS    MANHOOD     ABUNDANTLY     FULFILLED    IT. 

LIVING     AND     DYING     IN     THE     FAITH     OF     CHRIST, 

HE    HAS    LEFT    TO    HIS    FAMILY    A    HUMBLE    BUT    LIVELY    HOPE 

THAT,  AS    HE    WAS    RESPECTED    AND    LOVED    BY    MEN, 

HE  HAS  BEEN  FORGIVEN  AND  ACCEPTED  BY  GOD. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


161 


called  upon  to  name  what  spirit  of  evil  predominantly  deserved  the  name  of 
Antichrist,  I  should  name  the  spirit  of  chivalry  ' — the  more  detestable  for 
the  very  guise  of  the  "  Archangel  ruined,"  which  has  made  it  so  seductive 
to  the  most  generous  spirits — but  to  me  so  hateful,  because  it  is  in  direct  op- 
position to  the  impartial  justice  of  the  Gospel,  and  its  comprehensive  feeling 
of  equal  brotherhood,  and  because  it  so  fostered  a  sense  of  honour  rather 
than  a  sense  of  duty. 


VI.      TO    REV.  DR.  HAWKINS. 

May  29,  1829. 

[After  refusing  to  reprint  the  pamphlet  on  the  Roman  Catholic  Claims* 
and  expressing  his  belief  that  the  school  has  not  and  will  not  sustain  any 
injury  from  what  he  has  done.]  I  claim  a  full  right  to  use  my  own  discre- 
tion in  writing  upon  any  subject  I  choose,  provided  I  do  not  neglect  my 
duties  as  master  in  order  to  find  time  for  it.  But  those  who  know  me  will 
be  aware  that,  to  say  nothing  of  duty,  my  interest  in  the  school  far  exceeds 
what  I  feel  in  any  sort  of  composition  of  my  own  ;  and  that  neither  here  nor 
at  Laleham,  have  I  ever  allowed  my  own  writings  to  encroach  upon  the 
time,  or  on  the  spirits  and  vigour  of  mind  and  body,  which  I  hold  that  my 
pupils  have  a  paramount  claim  upon. 

As  to  the  principles  in  the  pamphlet,  it  is  a  matter  of  unfeigned  aston- 
ishment to  me,  that  any  man  calling  himself  a  Christian,  should  think  them 
bad,  or  should  not  recognize  in  them  the  very  principles  of  Christianity  itself. 
If  my  principles  are  bad,  I  only  wish  that  those  who  think  them  so  would 
state  their  own  in  opposition  to  them.  It  is  all  very  well  to  call  certain  prin- 
ciples mischievous  and  democratical ;  but  I  believe  very  few  of  those  who 
do  so  call  them,  would  be  able  to  bear  the  monstrous  nature  of  their  own,  if 
they  were  obliged  fully  to  develope  them.  I  mean  that  they  would  then  be 
seen  to  involve  what  in  their  daily  language  about  things  of  common  life 
their  very  holders  laugh  at  as  absurdity  and  mischief.  For  instance,  about 
continual  reforms,  or  the  wisdom  of  our  ancestors — I  have  heard  Tories 
laugh  at  the  farmers  in  their  parish,  for  opposing  the  mending  of  the  roads, 
because,  as  they  said,  what  had  been  good  enough  for  their  fathers  was 
good  enough  for  them ;  and  yet  these  farmers  were  not  an  atom  more  silly 
than  the  people  who  laughed  at  them,  but  only  more  consistent.  And  as  to 
the  arrogance  of  tone  in  the  pamphlet,  I  do  not  consider  it  to  be  arrogance 
to  assume  that  I  know  more  of  a  particular  subject,  which  I  have  studied 
eagerly  from  a  child,  than  those  do  who  notoriously  do  not  study  it  at  alL 
The  very  men  who  think  it  hard  to  be  taxed  with  ignorance  of  modern  his- 
tory, and  of  the  laws  and  literature  of  foreign  nations,  are  men  who,  till 
this  question  came  on,  never  pretended  to  know  any  thing  about  them  :  and, 
in  the  case  of  the  Evangelicals,  professed  to  shun  such  studies  as  profane. 
I  should  consider  no  man  arrogant,  who,  if  I  were  to  talk  about  some  math- 
ematical or  scientific  question  which  he  had  studied  habitually,  and  on  which 
all  scientific  men  were  agreed,  should  tell  me  that  I  did  not,  and  could  not 
understand  the  subject,  because  I  had  never  liked  mathematics,  and  had 
never  pretended  to  work  at  them.  Those  only  who  have  studied  history 
with  that  fondness  that  I  have  done  all  my  life  can  fully  appreciate  the  pain 
which  it  gives  me  to  see  the  most  mischievous  principles  supported,  as  they 

1  "'  Chivalry,'  or  (as  he  used  more  frequently  to  call  the  element  in  the  middle  ages 
which  he  thus  condemned) '  feudality,' is  especially  Keltic  and  barbarian — incompatible 
with  the  highest  virtue  of  which  man  is  capable,  and  the  last  at  which  he  arrives — a  sense 
of  justice.  It  sets  up  the  personal  allegiance  to  the  chief  above  allegiance  to  God  and  law." 
And  in  like  manner  he  maintained  that  the  great  excellence  of  the  18th  century  was  the 
development  of  the  idea  of  justice, — even  amid  the  excesses  to  which  it  was  carried  in 
some  of  the  notions  then  prevalent  on  what  was  called  civil  and  religious  liberty. 


162  LIFE  OF   DP.  ARNOLD. 

have  been  on  this  question,  with  an  ignorance  truly  audacious.  I  will  only 
instance  Mr.  C.'s  appeal  to  English  History  in  proof  that  God's  judgments 

will  visit  us,  if  we  grant  any  favour  to  the  Catholics On 

the  point  of  Episcopacy,  I  can  only  say,  that  my  notions,  whether  right  or 
wrong,  have  been  drawn  solely  from  the  New  Testament  itself,  according  to 
what  appears  to  me  its  true  meaning  and  spirit.  I  do  not  know  that  I  ever 
read  any  Low  Church  or  No  Church  argument  in  my  life.  But  I  should 
bike  to  develope  my  notions  on  this  point  more  fully  hereafter.  I  have  some 
thoughts  of  publishing  a  volume  of  essays  on  various  points  connected  with 
Christian  doctrine  and  practice :  I  do  not  mean  now — but  if  I  live,  and  can 
work  out  some  points,  on  which  I  have  not  yet  got  far  enough  to  authorize 
me  to  address  others,  yet  I  think  I  see  my  way  to  some  useful  truths.  Mean- 
time I  trust  I  shall  not  give  just  cause  of  offence  to  any  good  and  wise  man 
— or  personal  offence  to  any  man. 


VII.      TO    A    PARENT    HOLDING   UNITARIAN    OPINIONS. 

Rugby,  June  15,  1829. 

I  had  occasion  to  speak  to  your  son  this  evening  on  the  subject  of  the  ap- 
proaching confirmation ;  and.  as  I  had  understood  that  his  friends  were  not 
members  of  the  Established  Church,  my  object  was  not  so  much  to  persuade 
him  to  be  confirmed,  as  to  avail  myself  of  the  opportunity  thus  afforded  me 
to  speak  with  him  generally  on  the  subject  of  his  state  as  a  Christian,  and 
the  peculiar  temptations  to  which  he  was  now  peculiarly  exposed,  and  the 
nature  of  that  hope  and  faith  which  he  would  require  as  his  best  defence. 
But,  on  inquiring  to  what  persuasion  his  friends  belonged,  I  found  that  they 
were  Unitarians.  I  felt  myself  therefore  unable  to  proceed,  because,  as 
nothing  would  be  more  repugnant  to  my  notions  of  fair  dealing,  than  to 
avail  myself  indirectly  of  my  opportunities  of  influencing  a  boy's  mind  con- 
trary to  the  religious  belief  of  his  parents,  without  giving  them  the  fullest 
notice,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  when  the  differences  of  belief  are  so  great  and 
so  many,  I  feel  that  I  could  not  at  all  enter  into  the  subject,  without  enforc- 
ing principles  wholly  contrary  to  those  in  which  your  son  has  been  brought 
up.  This  difficulty  will  increase  with  every  half-year  that  he  remains  at 
the  school,  as  he  will  be  gradually  coming  more  and  more  under  my  imme- 
diate care  ;  and  I  can  neither  suffer  any  of  those  boys  with  whom  I  am  more 
immediately  connected,  to  be  left  without  religious  instruction,  nor  can  I 
give  it  in  his  case,  without  unavoidably  imparting  views  wholly  different 
from  those  entertained  by  the  persons  whom  he  is  naturally  most  disposed  to 
love  and  honour.  Under  these  circumstances,  I  think  it  fair  to  state  to  you, 
what  line  I  shall  feel  bound  to  follow,  after  the  knowledge  which  I  have  gained 
of  your  son's  religious  belief.  In  every  things  I  should  say  to  him  on  the 
subject,  I  should  use  every  possible  pains  and  delicacy  to  avoid  hurting  his 
feelings  with  regard  to  his  relations ;  but  at  the  same  time,  I  cannot  avoid 
labouring  to  impress  on  him,  what  is  my  belief  on  the  most  valuable  truths 
in  Christianity,  and  which,  I  fear,  must  be  sadly  at  variance  with  the  tenets 
in  which  he  has  been  brought  up.  I  should  not  do  this  controversially,  and 
in  the  case  of  any  other  form  of  dissent  from  the  Establishment,  I  would 
avoid  dwelling  on  the  differences  between  us,  because  I  could  teach  all  that 
I  conceive  to  be  essential  in  Christianity,  without  at  all  touching  upon  them. 
But  in  this  instance,  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  interfering  with  the  very  points 
most  at  issue.  I  have  a  very  good  opinion  of  your  son,  both  as  to  his  con- 
duct and  abilities,  and  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  lose  him  from  the  school. 
I  think,  also,  that  any  one  who  knows  me,  would  give  you  ample  assurance 
that  I  have  not  the  slightest  feeling  against  Dissenters  as  such,  or  any 
desire,  but  rather  very  much  the  contrary,  to  make  this  school  exclusive. 
My  difficulty  with  your  son  is  not  one  which  I  feel  as  a  Churchman,  but  as 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  Ig3 

a  Christian ;  and  goes  only  on  this  simple  principle,  that  I  feel  bound  to 
teach  the  essentials  of  Christianity  to  all  those  committed  to  my  care — and 
with  these  the  tenets  of  the  Unitarians  alone,  among  all  the  Dissenters  in 
the  kingdom,  are  in  my  judgment  irreconcilable.  I  trust  that  you  will  for- 
give me  for  having  troubled  you  thus  at  length  on  this  subject. 


VIII.      TO    THE    REV.    GEORGE    CORNISH. 

(After  the  death  of  his  father-in-law.) 

Rugby,  September  2,  1829. 

I,  too,  had  been  meditating  a  letter  to  you  for  some  time  past,  when  the 
sight  of  yours  roused  me  to  make  a  vigorous  effort,  and  here  I  have  regular- 
ly begun  a  sheet  of  paper  to  you.  You  will  perhaps  have  heard  already 
that  all  our  anxiety  for  Mr.  Penrose  was  speedily  and  mercifully  terminated, 
by  as  blessed  a  death  as  I  suppose  ever  was  witnessed.  Although  we  were 
naturally  anxious  about  him,  because  his  attacks,  though  very  slight  and  tran- 
sient, had  rather  increased  in  frequency,  yet  he  was  perfectly  able  to  per- 
form all  his  usual  duties,  and  enjoy  his  usual  comforts  in  his  family,  and  even 
his  amusements  in  attending  to  his  garden.  On  the  Thursday  before  his 
death  he  was  standing  on  his  ladder,  and  pruning  his  vine  for  some  time, 
and  he  went  to  bed  perfectly  well.  The  next  morning  he  was  seized  with  a 
more  violent  attack,  but  still  without  pajn,  or  without  affecting  his  senses, 
and  all  he  said  indicated  perfect  Christian  peace.  A  second  attack  the  same 
morning  made  him  speechless,  and  he  soon  sank  into  a  lethargic  slumber,  in 
which  he  remained  till  Sunday  night,  when  he  expired  in  the  arms  of  his 
children  without  a  struggle.  We  arrived  in  time  to  see  him  alive,  although 
he  was  then  insensible,  and  Mary  followed  him  to  his  grave  on  the  Thursday 
following,  with  her  aunts,  brothers  and  sisters,  and  John  Keble  to  read  the 

funeral  service When  I  dwell  on  the  entire  happiness  that 

we  are  tasting  day  after  day  and  year  after  year,  it  really  seems  startling ; 
and  the  sense  of  so  much  and  such  continued  temporal  mercy,  is  even  more 
than  humbling. — it  is  at  times  even  fearful  to  me  when  I  look  within,  and 
know  how  little  truly  grateful  I  am  for  it.  All  the  children  are  well,  and  all, 
I  trust,  improving  in  character — thanks  to  their  dear  mother's  care  for  them, 
who,  under  God,  has  been  their  constant  corrector  and  guide.  As  for 
myself,  I  think  of  Wordsworth's  lines, 

"  Ye9  !  they  can  make  who  fail  to  find 
Brief  leisure  e'en  in  busiest  days,"  &c. 

and  I  know  how  much  need  I  have  to  make  such  moments  of  leisure ;  for 
else  one  goes  on  still  employed,  till  all  makes  progress,  except  our  spiritual 
life,  and  that,  I  fear,  goes  backward.  The  very  dealing,  as  I  do,  with  beings 
in  the  highest  state  of  bodily  health  and  spirits,  is  apt  to  give  a  correspond- 
ing carelessness  to  my  own  mind.  I  must  be  all  alive  and  vigorous  to 
manage  them,  and  to  do  my  work ;  very  different  from  the  contemplations  of 
sickness  and  sorrow,  which  so  often  present  themselves  to  a  man  who  has  the 
care  of  a  parish.  And,  indeed,  my  spirits  in  themselves  are  a  great  blessing, 
for  without  them,  the  work  would  weigh  me  down,  whereas  now  I  seem  to 
throw  it  off  like  the  fleas  from  a  dog's  back  when  he  shakes  himself.  May 
I  only  learn  daily  and  hourly  ao>q>oovdv. 

I  am  very  much  delighted  with  what  you  say  of  my  pamphlet  [on  the  Ro- 
man Catholic  claims].     I  know  it  gave pain,  and  I  fear  it  has , 

and  others  of  my  friends.  Yet,  I  know  that  I  did  not  write  it  with  one  atom 
of  unkindness  or  violence  of  feeling — nor  do  I  think  that  the  language  or  tone 
is  violent ;  and  what  I  said  of  the  clergy,  I  said  in  the  very  simplicity  of  my 
heart,  no  more  imagining  that  it  would  give  offence,  than  if  I  had  said  that 
they  were  unacquainted  generally  with  military  tactics  or  fortification.     The 


164  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

part  which  you  object  to,  was  not  put  in  unthinkingly — hut  I  wished  very 
much  to  bring  the  matter  of  schism  to  an  issue ;  and  if  any  respectable  man 
were  to  notice  that  part  of  the  pamphlet,  I  should  like  to  enter  more  fully 
into  the  subject.  My  own  notions  upon  it  have  grown  up  wholly  out  of  the 
New  Testament,  and  because  I  never  have  thought,  that  what  people  call  the 
Primitive  Church,  and  much  less  the  Anti-Nicene  Church  more  generally, 
was  any  better  authority  per  se,  than  the  Church  of  Rome,  or  the  Greek 
Church.  But  I  do  not  know  that  what  I  have  said  in  the  pamphlet  goes  at 
all  beyond  the  fair  conclusions  to  be  drawn  from  our  own  article,  which  gives 
to  any  national  Church  an  authority  to  manage  its  own  concerns,  where 
God  has  not  laid  down  any  fixed  rule;  and,  besides,  what  resemblance,  is  there 
between  the  government  of  the  most  ancient  Episcopal  Churches,  and  that 
of  the  Church  of  England,  to  those  who  regard  resemblances  or  differences 
of  government  to  consist  in  things  more  than  in  names  1  I  think,  that  what 
I  have  said  in  my  pamphlet  merely  goes  so  far  as  to  assert,  that  there  is  no 
schism  in  the  Church  of  England,  having  nothing  to  do  with  the  Bishop  of 
Rome,  or  in  the  Kirk  of  Scotland,  having  nothing  to  do  with  any  Archbishops 
and  Bishops  at  all,  but  that  I  have  not  at  all  treated  of  the  question  of  differ- 
ent ecclesiastical  societies  existing  in  one  and  the  same  civil  society  like  our 
English  Dissenters,  whatever  my  own  opinions  may  be  about  the  matter.  I 
find  people  continually  misunderstanding  the  strong  distinction  which  I  draw 
between  individuals  and  societies,  insomuch  that  Faber  charges  me  with  say- 
ing, that  every  individual  has  a  right  to  govern  himself,  which  I  have  spe- 
cially disclaimed  in  divers  places ;  being,  in  fact,  a  firm  believer  in  the  duty 
of  absolute  passive  obedience  in  all  cases  between  an  individual  and  the  gov- 
ernment— but  not  when  the  individual  is  acting  as  a  member  of  the  society, 
and  their. concurrence  with  him  tells  him  that  obedience  is  now  a  misplaced 
term — because  there  is  no  authority  in  a  rebellious  government — rebellious 
against  society — to  claim  obedience.  I  am  sure  that  my  views  in  this  mat- 
ter are  neither  seditious  nor  turbulent — and  I  think  I  stated  them  clearly,  but 
it  seems  they  were  not  clear  to  every  body. 


IX.      TO    REV.  F.    C.  BLACKSTONE. 

Rugby,  October  14,  1829. 

I  never   felt  more  strongly  the  desire  of  keeping  up  my  old 

friendships,  and  it  often  grieves  me  to  think  how  little  I  see  or  hear  of  many 
of  those  for  whom  I  feel  the  strongest  regard.  I  do  not  mean  that  this  is 
their  fault  rather  than  mine,  or  that  it  is  a  fault  at  all ;  but  it  is  a  tendency 
of  middle  life  and  settled  occupation,  which  I  think  we  ought  to  struggle 
against,  or  else  it  grows  with  a  fearful  rapidity.  I  am  very  anxious  to  ex- 
press my  repentance  of  that  passage  in  my  pamphlet,  which  you  allude  to, 
"  raving  about  idolatry,"  &c.  I  mean  my  repentance  of  its  tone  and  lan- 
guage, for  the  substance  of  it  I  think  correct,  and  that  men  whose  most 
ignorant,  and  worse  than  ignorant,  application  of  English  history  had,  to  say 
the  truth,  made  me  angry,  are  likely  to  do  a  great  deal  of  mischief  in  Ire- 
land. But  the  expression  was  unkind,  and  too  sweeping,  and  I  certain- 
ly ought  not,  nor  would  I,  speak  of  all  those  as  "  raving  about  idolatry," 
whose  opinions  as  to  the  guilt  of  the  Romish  Church  differ  from  my  own. 
With  regard  to  the  apparent  inconsistency  between  the  sermons  and  the 
pamphlet,  you  will  find  the  term  "  practically  idolatry"  applied  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  system  in  some  countries,  even  in  the  pamphlet.  I  never  wished 
to  mince  the  matter  with  their  practices,  but  still,  in  principle,  I  cannot  call 
the  Romish  Church  an  idolatrous  Church  in  that  strong  sense  as  to  warrant 
Faber's  conclusions,  even  putting  aside  the  difference  of  Christian  times 
from  Jewish.  I  should  compare  their  superstitions  to  the  worship  of  the 
brazen  serpent,  which  Hezekiah  did  away  with,  which  appears  to  have 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  ]  55 

been  long  in  existence,  and  which,  in  many  of  its  worshippers,  at  any  rate, 
was  practically  idolatry ;  but  I  should  not  have  called  the  Jewish  Church 
idolatrous  so  long  as  this  worship  was  encouraged,  nor  applied  to  it  the  lan- 
guage of"  Come  out  of  her  my  people,"  &c 

Of  the  moral  state  of  the  boys,  for  which  of  course  I  care  infinitely  the 
most,  I  can  judge  the  least :  our  advantages  in  that  respect  are  great,  at 
least  in  the  absence  of  many  temptations  to  gross  vice ;  but  to  cultivate  a 
good  spirit  in  the  highest  sense  is  a  far  different  thing  from  shutting  out  one 
or  two  gross  evils  from  want  of  opportunity. 


X.      TO    REV.   J.  TUCKER. 

Rugby,  October  26,  1829. 

If  we  are  alive  fifteen  years  hence,  I  think  I  would  go  with  you 

gladly  to  Swan  River,  if  they  will  make  me  schoolmaster  there,  and  lay  my 
bones  in  the  land  of  kangaroos  and  opossums.  I  laugh  about  it ;  yet  if  my 
wife  were  alive,  and  able  to  go,  I  should  think  it  a  very  great  benefit  to  the 
good  cause  to  go  out  with  all  my  family,  and  become  a  Swan  River  man  : 
and  I  should  try  to  get  others  of  our  friends  to  go  out  with  us.  My  notion 
is,  that  no  misssionaryzing  is  half  so  beneficial,  as  to  try  to  pour  sound  and 
healthy  blood  into  a  young  civilized  society  :  to  make  one  colony,  if  possible, 
like  the  ancient  colonies,  or  like  New  England — a  living  sucker  from  the 
mother  country,  bearing  the  same  blossoms  and  the  same  fruits,  not  a  repro- 
duction]^ its  vilest  excrescences,  its  ignorance,  and  its  wickedness,  while  all 
its  good  elements  are  left  behind  in  the  process.  No  words  can  tell  the  evil 
of  such  colonies  as  we  have  hitherto  planted,  where  the  best  parts  of  the 
new  society  have  been  men  too  poor  to  carry  with  them  or  to  gain  much  of 
the  higher  branches  of  knowledge  ;  or  else  mere  official  functionaries  from 
England,  whose  hearts  and  minds  have  been  always  half  at  home,  and  who 
have  never  identified  themselves  with  the  land  in  which  they  were  working. 
But  if  you  and  your  sisters  were  to  go  out,  with  half  Southborough  after 
you, — apothecary,  lawyers,  butchers,  bakers,  tailors,  carpenters,  and  la- 
bourers, and  if  we  were  to  join  with  a  similar  draught  from  Rugby  and  Lale- 
ham,  I  think  we  should  deserve  to  be  avctygantol  eitgydrcu  both  here  and 
in  Swan  River.  Such  are  my  notions  about  it ;  and  I  am  not  clear  that  I 
shall  not  devote  my  first  £1000  that  I  make  here  to  the  purchase  of  land  in 
Swan  River,  that  I  may  have  my  estate  and  tbe  school  buildings  got  into 
due  order,  before  I  shut  up  shop  at  Rugby.  Meantime,  I  hope  you  will  not 
think  I  ought  to  shut  up  shop  forthwith,  and  adjourn  to  the  next  asylum  for 
daft  people,  because  I  am  thus  wildly  dreaming  about  Swan  River,  instead 
of  talking  soberly  about  Rugby.  But  Rugby  is  a  very  nice  place  all  the 
same,  and  I  wish  you  would  come  and  form  your  own  judgment  of  it,  or 
that  some  of  your  sisters  would,  if  you  cannot  or  will  not. 


XI.      TO    J.   T.    COLERIDGE,   ESQ. 

Rugby,  November  4,  1829. 

What  a  time  it  is  since  I  wrote  to  you  !  And  how  much  has  occurred, 
and  is  continually  occurring,  on  which  I  should  like  to  write  to  you.  You 
have  heard  perhaps  of  Mr.  Penrose's  death  in  September  last,  when,  from 
the  enjoyment  of  full  health  and  vigour  of  mind  and  body,  he  was  called 
away  in  three  days  with  no  intermediate  pain  or  struggle,  but  by  a  gentle 
lethargic  sleep,  which  lasted  uninterrupted  to  his  very  last  moment. 
Coupled  with  his  holy  and  Christian  life,  which  made  him  require  no  long 
time  to  go  and   renew  his  exhausted  oil,  his  end  was   a  most  complete 


166  L1FE    0F   DR   ARNOLD. 

(vO-avaoCa,  so  rare  a  blessing,  that  one  dares  not  hope  or  pray  for  a  s  imilar 

mercy  in  one's  own  case 

We  are  going  on  comfortably,  and  I  trust,  thrivingly,  with  the  school. 
We  are  above  200,  and  still  looking  upwards ;  but  I  neither  expect,  and 
much  less  desire,  any  great  addition  to  our  numbers.  The  school  cannot,  I 
think,  regularly  expect  more  than  200  or  250 ;  it  may  ascend  higher  with  a 
strong  flood,  but  there  will  be  surely  a  corresponding  ebb  after  it.  You  may 
imagine  that  I  ponder  over,  often  enough,  the  various  discussions  that  I  have 
had  with  you  about  education,  and  verse  making,  and  reading  the  Poets.  I 
find  the  natural  leaning  of  a  schoolmaster  is  so  much  to  your  view  of  the 
question,  that  my  reason  is  more  than  ever  led  to  think  my  own  notions 
strongly  required  in  the  present  state  of  classical  education,  if  it  were  only 
on  the  principle  of  the  bent  stick.  There  is  something  so  beautiful  in  good 
Latin  verses,  and  in  hearing  fine  poetry  well  construed,  and  something  so 
attractive  altogether  in  good  scholarship,  that  I  do  not  wonder  at  masters 
directing  an  undue  portion  of  their  attention  to  a  crop  so  brilliant.  I  feel  it 
growing  in  myself  daily ;  and,  if  I  feel  it,  with  prejudices  all  on  the  other 
side,  I  do  not  wonder  at  its  being  felt  generally.  But  my  deliberate  con- 
viction is  stronger  and  stronger,  that  all  this  system  is  wholly  wrong  for 
the  greater  number  of  boys.  Those  who  have  talents,  and  natural  taste, 
and  fondness  for  poetry,  find  the  poetry  lessons  very  useful ;  the  mass 
do  not  feel  one  tittle  about  the  matter,  and,  I  speak  advisedly,  do  not,  in 
my  belief,  benefit  from  them  one  grain.  I  am  not  sure  that  other  things 
would  answer  better,  though  I  have  very  little  doubt  of  it ;  but  at  any  rate, 
the  present  plan  is  so  entire  a  failure,  that  nothing  can  be  risked  by  chang- 
ing it More  than  half  my  boys  never  saw  the  sea,  and  never 

were  in  London,  and  it  is  surprising  how  the  first  of  these  disadvantages 
interferes  with  their  understanding  much  of  the  ancient  poetry,  while  the 
other  keeps  the  range  of  their  ideas  in  an  exceedingly  narrow  compass. 
Brought  up  myself  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  amidst  the  bustle  of  soldiers  and 
sailors,  and  familiar  from  a  child  with  boats  and  ships,  and  the  flags  of  half 
Europe,  which  gave  me  an  instinctive  acquaintance  with  geography,  I  quite 
marvel  to  find  in  what  a  state  of  ignorance  boys  are  at  seventeen  or  eighteen, 
who  have  lived  all  their  days  in  inland  country  parishes,  or  small  country 

towns For  your  comfort,  I  think  I  am  succeeding  in  making 

them  write  very  fair  Latin  prose,  and  to  observe  and  understand  some  of 
the  differences  between  the  Latin  and  English  idioms.  On  the  other  hand, 
what  our  boys  want  in  one  way  they  get  in  another ;  from  the  very  circum- 
stance of  their  being  the  sons  of  quieter  parents,  they  have  far  less  i»/?§te 
and  more  liiri&iict,  than  the  boys  of  any  other  school  1  ever  knew.  Thus,  to 
say  the  least,  they  have  less  of  a  most  odious  and  unchristian  quality,  and 
are  thus  more  open  to  instruction,  and  have  less  repugnance  to  be  good, 

because  their  master  wishes  them  to  be  so I  have  almost 

filled  my  paper,  and  can  only  add  that  Thucydides  is  getting  on  slowly,  but 
I  think  that  it  will  be  a  much  less  defective  book  than  it  was  likely  to  have 
been  had  I  remained  at  Laleham  ;  for  though  I  have  still  an  enormous  deal 
to  learn,  yet  my  scholarship  has  mended  considerably  within  the  last  year  at 
Rugby.  I  suppose  you  will  think  at  any  rate  that  it  will  be  better  to  publish 
Thucydides,  however  imperfectly,  than  to  write  another  pamphlet.  Poor 
dear  pamphlet !  I  seem  to  feel  the  greater  tenderness  for  it,  because  it  has 
excited  so  much  odium  ;  and  now  I  hear  that  it  is  reported  at  Oxford  that  I 
wish  to  suppress  it,  which  is  wholly  untrue.  I  would  not  print  a  second  edi- 
tion, because  the  question  was  settled,  and  controversy  about  it  was  become 
absurd  ;  but  I  never  have  repented  of  it  in  any  degree,  or  wished  it  unwrit- 
ten, "  pace  tua  dixerim,"  and  I  only  regret  that  I  did  not  print  a  larger  im- 
pression. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


167 


XII.      TO    REV.  H.  JENKYNS. 

Rugby,  November  11,  18S9. 

I  thank  you  heartily  for  two  very  kind  letters,  and  am  very  anxious  to  be 
favoured  with  some  more  of  your  friend's  comments  [on  Thucydides.]  .  .  . 
I  hope  I  am  not  too  old,  or  too  lazy,  or  too  obstinate  to  be  taught  better. 

I  do  thank  you  very  much  for  your  kindness  in  taking  so 

much  trouble  in  my  behalf;  and  I  earnestly  beg  of  you  to  send  me  more. 

And  can  you  tell  me,  or,  if  not,  will  you  ask  Amicus  Doct., — 

where  is  to  be  found  a  summary  of  the  opinions  of  English  Scholars  about 
o7rws  and  on  ox;  iir],  and  the  moods  which  they  require  :  and  further,  do  you 
or  he  hold  their  doctrine  good  for  any  thing  ?  Dawes,  and  all  men  who 
endeavour  to  establish  general  rules,  are  of  great  use  in  directing  one's 
attention  to  points  which  one  might  otherwise  have  neglected ;  and  labour 
and  acuteness  often  discover  a  rule,  where  indolence  and  carelessness  fan- 
cied it  was  all  hap-hazard.  But  larger  induction  and  sounder  judgment 
(which  I  think  exist  in  Hermann  in  an  infinite  degree  beyond  any  of  our 
English  scholars)  teach  us  to  distinguish  again  between  a  principle  and  an 
usage  ;  the  latter  may  be  general,  but  if  it  be  merely  usage,  grounded  on  no 
intelligible  principle,  it  seems  to  me  foolish  to  insist  on  its  being  universal, 
and  to  alter  texts  right  and  left,  to  make  them  all  conformable  to  the  Canon. 
Equidem, — both  in  Greek  and  in  other  matters, — think  liberty  a  far  better 
thing  than  uniformity  of  form  merely,  where  no  principle  is  concerned. 
Voila  the  cloven  foot. 


XIII.      TO    J.  T.  COLERIDGE,  ESft. 
(In  allusion  to  a  libel  in  the  John  Bull.) 

Rugby,  May  II,  1830. 

I  thank  you  for  another  very  kind  letter.  In  a  matter  of  this  sort,  I  wil- 
lingly resign  my  own  opinion  to  that  of  a  man  like  yourself,  at  once  my 
friend  and  legal  adviser.  I  think,  too,  that  I  am  almost  bound  to  attend  to 
the  opinion  of  the  Bishop  of  London  ;  for  his  judgment  of  the  inexpediency 
of  prosecuting  must  rest  on  the  scandal  which  he  thinks  it  will  bring  upon 
religion  and  the  Church,  and  of  this  he  is  a  far  better  judge  than  I  am  ;  nor, 
to  say  the  truth,  should  I  much  like  to  act  in  a  -doubtful  matter  in  opposition 
to  the  decided  advice  of  a  Bishop  in  a  case  that  concerned  the  Church.  I 
say  this  in  sober  earnest,  in  spite  of  what  you  call  my  Whiggery  and  Radi- 
calism. 


XIV.      TO    REV.  DR.  HAWKINS. 

Rugby,  May  1 9,  1830. 

The  authorities  which  are  arrayed  against  proceeding  are 

quite  decisive,  and  I  heartily  agree  with  you  that  clergymen  must  not  go  to 
law,  when  lawyers  say  they  should  not.  Still  as  I  had  no  thought  of  gain 
or  of  vengeance,  but  simply  of  procuring  a  public  justification  of  my  char- 
acter— not  my  opinions — I  feel  that  it  would  have  been  no  lack  of  charity 
to  proceed,  though  I  am  heartily  glad  to  be  spared  the  necessity  of  doing  so 
by  so  many  and  such  powerful  representations.  But  I  trust  that  you  and 
all  my  friends  will  give  me  credit  for  being  perfectly  tolerant  of  all  attacks 

upon  my  writings  or  general  abuse  of  my  opinions Believe 

me,  I  am  heartily  glad  of  the  final  result  of  this  discussion,  for  I  had  no  wish 
to  go  to  law  but  I  thought  that  mine  own,  or  rather  my  misrepresented  opin- 


[68  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

ions  on  politics,  ought  to  make  me  particularly  anxious  to  deny  any  charge 
respecting  religious  matters.  But  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  take  the  judg- 
ment of  my  friends  and  of  impartial  persons  in  what  rests  wholly  on  opinion, 
and  besides,  if  the  attack  or  loss  to  my  own  character  were  ever  so  great,  I 
should  quite  agree  with  you  that  it  was  better  to  bear  it,  than  to  bring  sacred 
things  into  discussion  in  places,  and  through  disputants  wholly  unfitted  for 
them.     But  this  I  at  first  did  not  contemplate  as  the  likely  result. 


XV.      TO    F.    HARTWELL,  ESQ_ 

Rugby,  June  28,  J830. 

I  have  just  published  one  volume  of  Thucydides ;  when 

the  others  will  follow  it  is  hard  to  say,  for  the  work  here  is  more  and  more 
engrossing  continually :  but  I  like  it  better  and  better;  it  has  all  the  interest 
of  a  great  game  of  chess,  with  living  creatures  for  pawns  and  pieces,  and 
your  adversary,  in  plain  English,  the  Devil ;  truly  he  plays  a  very  tough 
game,  and  is  very  hard  to  beat,  if  I  ever  do  beat  him.  It  is  quite  surprising 
to  see  the  wickedness  of  young  boys ;  or  would  be  surprising,  if  I  had  not 
had  my  own  school  experience  and  a  good  deal  since  to  enlighten  me. 


[The  following  letters,  which  have  been  inserted  as  exhibiting  the  earlier  stages  of  his 
views  of  ancient  history,  were  occasioned  by  his  revision  of  the  "Outlines  of  General 
History,"  and  the  first  numbers  of  "  The  History  of  Rome,"  for  the  Useful  Knowledge 
Society.] 

XVI.      TO    T.  F.  ELLIS,  ESQ.. 

June  26,  1830. 

.  .  .  .  In  the  Roman  History,  I  have  been  inclined  to  doubt  Niebuhr's 
notion  of  the  Alpine  origin  of  the  Tuscans.  Do  not  all  existing  accounts 
concur  in  stating  that  the  Metropolis  of  the  race  in  Italy  was  south,  not 
north,  of  the  Appenines  ?  and  does  not  the  Tuscan  notion  of  the  God's 
dwelling  to  the  north,  on  the  Alps,  and  from  thence  looking  down  on  the 
world,  rather  imply  that  the  Alps  were  to  the  Tuscans  in  Italy  the  barrier 
of  their  world,  the  limit  of  their  knowledge,  rather  than  the  earliest  home  of 
their  nation.  But  this  is  happily  not  of  any  great  consequence.  Further.  I 
believe  that  the  great  falsehood  of  the  Roman  history  begins  with  the  Com- 
monwealth ;  the  reigns  of  the  kings  I  cannot  but  think  contain  more  truth 
than  Niebuhr  allows.  The  story  of  the  elder  Tarquin  in  particular  seems 
to  me  thoroughly  probable,  and  to  be  confirmed  by  the  authority  of  the  Em- 
peror Claudius,  in  his  speech  preserved  on  the  brass  plate  at  Lyons ;  and 
Claudius  was  well  acquainted  with  the  Tuscan  historians. 

Again,  the  great  Crisis  in  the  foreign  powers  of  Rome  seems  to  me  to 
have  been  her  war  with  the  Samnites,  Gauls,  Tuscans,  and  Umbrians,  in  the 
fifth  century  of  Rome.  Why  did  the  Romans  triumph  over  this  coalition? 
And  was  it  by  the  superior  population  of  Latium,  which  we  know  was  ex- 
ceedingly dense  1  I  have  always  wanted  this  period  to  be  brought  out  into 
stronger  light,  though  I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  practicable.  I  am  de- 
lighted that  you  have  given  Vico  his  due.  I  have  mentioned  him  also  in 
the  Appendix  to  the  first  volume  of  my  Thucydides,  which, is  just  published. 
In  the  account  of  the  origin  of  the  Roman  tribes,  I  do  not  see  clearly  whom 
you  suppose  the  Rhamnes  to  have  been — were  they  the  mixed  Casco-Pelas- 
gian  people,  and  the  Luceres  the  pure  Pelasgian  ?  But  then  how  came  the 
traditions  of  the  inferior  tribe  to  prevail  so  entirely  ?  I  am  still  inclined  to 
think  that  the  Luceres  were  connected  with  Tuscany. 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


169 


XVII.      TO    THE    SAME.  _ 

Rugby,  July  2,  1830. 

I  ought  to  have  written  to  you  sooner  about  chapter  xiv.,  but  I  have  had 
.  very  much  to  do  immediately  before  the  holidays.  The  following  remarks 
have  occurred  to  me,  which  I  will  put  down  in  order. 

Sect.  1. — Is  not  some  brief  explanation  required  of  the  causes  of  the 
Roman  successes  by  sea,  immediately  after  the  first  creation  of  their  navy  ? 
And  is  not  the  principle  of  general  usefulness,  that  any  superiority  acquired 
only  by  one  nation  getting  the  start  of  another,  and  so  having  studied  the 
subject  longer,  is  always  liable  to  be  overthrown,  when  the  rival  nation 
fairly  enters  into  the  race  1 

[After  some  remarks  on  the  Jus  Italicum.]  The  Jus  Cseritum  appears 
^to  have  been  a  mere  communication  of  the  private  rights  of  citizen- 
ship, made  at  a  time  when  the  citizenship  of  Caere  was  as  valuable  to  a 
Roman  as  that  of  Rome  to  a  Caeritan.  I  have  long  had  a  suspicion  that  the 
term  "  socii  navales,"  habitually  applied  to  the  Roman  seamen,  was  derived 
from  a  time  when  all  the  navy  of  Rome  was  furnished  by  her  allies,  proba- 
bly by  this  very  Caere  or  Agylla. 

Sect.  5. — The  Little  St.  Bernard  is  not  at  the  source  of  the  Isere,  but 
some  miles  below  it.  If  Cramer's  statement  fail  any  where,  I  have  always 
imagined  that  it  was  here,  and  that  the  army  might  possibly  have  followed 
the  Isere  higher  up  than  he  imagines,  and  descended  into  a  valley  which 
would  take  them  more  directly  down  upon  Turin.  The  passes  between  the 
Little  St..  Bernard  and  Mount  Cenis  are  almost  the  only  points  which  1 
believe  have  not  been  examined. 

Might  not  the  wisdom  and  firmness  of  the  Romans  in  maintaining  the 
struggle  in  Spain,  and  thus  depriving  Hannibal  of  his  great  nursery  of  sol- 
diers, be  noticed  as  contributing  mainly  to  the  success  of  the  war  ?  Had 
Hasdrubal  followed  him  immediately,  instead  of  nine  years  afterwards,  the 
fate  of  Rome  was  inevitable. 

I  have  noticed  all  that  struck  me  as  worth  noticing  as  to  the  expediency 
of  any  alteration.  I  am  very  much  pleased  to  have  had  an  opportunity  of 
reading  these  chapters  attentively,  and  I  am  sure  they  must  have  cost  you 
no  little  trouble,  and  will  be  exceedingly  useful.  I  like  much  your  summary 
of  the  second  Punic  war,  and  your  remarks  at  the  close  of  it.  The  great 
art  seems  to  be  to  make  certain  salient  points,  in  an  abridged  history,  in  the 
way  of  remarks  or  recapitulation — otherwise  it  is  like  travelling  through  the 
plains  of  Lombardy ;  one  is  interested  with  each  successive  scene,  but  gains 
no  general  notion  of  the  whole  country,  and  the  bearings  of  one  place  with 
another. 


XVIII.       TO     THE     SAME. 

Rugby,  September  12,  1830. 

About  the  Pelasgian  element  in  the  Athenian  people,  I  am  not 

quite  satisfied.  There  is  a  clever  pamphlet  by  a  Dr.  Edwards,  a  friend  of 
Thierry's,  in  which  he  maintains  that  the  original  inhabitants  of  all  coun- 
tries, such  as  the  Celts  in  Britain,  have  been  much  less  lost  by  subsequent 
conquests  than  is  commonly  supposed,  and  that  their  physical  type  shows 
itself  unchanged  after  the  lapse  of  centuries.  II' so,  the  predominant  element 
at  Athens  would  have  been  Pelasgian — and  was  it  then  the  Pelasgian  rather 
than  the  Hellenic  people  whose  intellectual  nature  was  so  wonderful  ?  Cer- 
tainly there  appears  very  little  of  the  same  superiority  amongst  the  Dorians 
of  Peloponnesus,  who  were  pure  Hellenes,  or  amongst  the  ^Eolic  Boeotians. 
But  this  question  of  race  requires  still  a  much  larger  induction,  I  think, 
before  we  can  argue  solidly  about  it. 

12 


170  L1FE   0F    DR    ARNOLD. 


XIX.       TO    THE    SAME. 

Rugby,  October  3,  1530. 

I  have  kept  the  two  volumes  which  were  sent  to  me  longer  than  I  ought, 
but  my  time  has  been  sadly  occupied,  and  I  find  it  impossible  to  do  either  of 
them  justice.  The  Rome,  I  think,  promises  exceedingly  well :  and  I  have 
ventured  to  add  a  sort  of  sketch  of  the  scenery  from  my  recollection  of  it, 
chiefly,  I  believe,  because  it  is  a  delight  to  me  to  recall  to  my  mind  images 
of  such  beauty.  But  if  the  description  be  clear,  of  which  I  cannot  judge,  I 
think  it  will  not  be  misplaced  ;  at  least'I  have  a  great  fondness  for  such  topo- 
graphical details  myself. 

I  cannot  yet  be  quite  so  skeptical  about  the  kings  ;  nor  can  I  see  so 
clearly  the  poetical  character  of  the  early  Roman  History.  Perhaps,  how- 
ever, it  would  be  better  to  say  that  I  do  not  trace  the  fictitious  character  of* 
it  so  strongly ;  for  the  traditions  may  well  have  come  down  in  verse,  but  it 
makes  all  the  difference  whether  they  were  merely  real  events  described  in 
the  style  and  form  most  fitted  to  make  them  relished  and  remembered,  or 
whether  they  were  wild  inventions,  like  Ariosto's  tale  of  the  siege  of  Paris 
by  the  Saracens.  Is  not  one  of  the  most  correct  accounts  of  William  the 
Conqueror's  Expedition  to  be  found  in  an  old  poem,  Le  Roman  du  Rou  1 

What  you  say  of  the  Achsans  is  I  suppose  quite  just :  Achaia 

was  less  Doricized  than  the  rest  of  the  Peloponnesus,  but,  from  its  obscurity 
during  the  brilliant  times  of  Greece,  very  little  seems  to  be  known  about  it  . 
The  system  of  federation  existed  every  where  in  the  early  state  of  society, 
and  Achaia  was  ripe  for  its  renewal  at  a  later  period,  because  no  one  town 
had  so  outgrown  the  others  as  to  aspire  to  become  the  capital  of  the  whole 
country. 

[Some  of  these  opinions,  especially  those  on  mythical  history,  were  afterwards  much 
modified.  See  the  early  chapters  of  his  History  of  Rome,  and  the  Preface  to  the  3rd  Vol. 
of  his  Edition  of  Thucydides] 


XX.      TO    THE    REV.    GEORGE    CORNISH. 

Rugby,  August  24,  1830. 

Your  letter  was  a  most  welcome  sight  to  me  the  first  morning  of  my 
arrival  at  home,  amidst  the  host  of  strange  handwritings  and  letters  of 
business  which  now  greet  me  every  morning.  It  rejoices  me  to  think  that 
we  are  going  to  have  a  cousin  of  yours  at  Rugby,  and  I  suppose  we  shall 
see  him  here  on  Saturday,  when  the  great  coach  starts.  You  know  that  it 
is  licensed  to  carry  not  exceeding  260  passengers,  besides  the  foundationers. 
I  agreed  with  the  Pythagoreans  that  to  aouiotov  was  one  of  the  number  of 
xaxa,  and  so  I  applied  to  the  Trustees,  and  got  the  limit  set.  We  are  not 
near  it  yet,  being  not  quite  260,  including  foundationers,  and  perhaps  may 
never  reach  it ;  but  that  I  shall  not  at  all  regret,  and  all  I  wanted  was  never 
to  go  beyond  it.  We  have  got  a  Cambridge  man,  a  Fellow  of  Trinity,  who 
was  most  highly  recommended  to  me,  as  a  new  master  ;  and  I  hope  we  shall 
pull  hard  and  all  together  during  the  next  half  year :  there  is  plenty  to  be 
done,  I  can  assure  you  ;  but  thank  God,  I  continue  to  enjoy  the  work,  and  am 
now  in  excellent  condition  for  setting  to  it.  You  may  see  Mary's  name  and 
mine  amongst  the  subscribers  for  the  sufferers  at  Paris.  It  seems  to  me  a 
most  blessed  revolution,  spotless  beyond  all  example  in  history,  and  the  most 
glorious  instance  of  a  royal  rebellion  against  society,  promptly  and  energet- 
ically repressed,  that  the  world  has  yet  seen.  It  magnificently  vindicates 
the  cause  of  knowledge  and  liberty,  showing  how  humanizing  to  all  classes 
of  society  are  the  spread  of  thought  and  information,  and  improved  political 
institutions  ;  and  it  lays  the  crimes  of  the  last  revolution  just  in  the  right 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  17j 

place,  the  wicked  aristocracy,  that  had  so  brutalized  the  people  by  itc 
long  iniquities,  that  they  were  like  slaves  broken  loose  when  they  first 
bestirred  themselves. 

Before  all  these  events  took  place,  on  my  way  out  through  France,  I  was 
reading  Guizot's  History  of  the  Progress  of  Civilization  in  France  from  the 
earliest  times.  You  know  he  is  now  Minister  of  the  Interior,  and  one  of  the 
ablest  writers  in  France.  In  his  book  he  gives  a  history  of  the  Pelagian  con- 
troversy, a  most  marvellous  contrast  with  the  Liberals  of  a  former  day,  or 
with  our  Westminster  Reviewers  now.  Guizot  sides  with  St.  Augustine  ; 
but  the  whole  chapter  is  most  worthy  of  notice ;  the  freedom  of  the  will,  so 
far  as  to  leave  a  consciousness  of  guilt  when  we  have  not  done  our  duty, — 
the  corruption  of  our  nature,  which  never  lets  us  in  fact  come  up  to  what  we 
know  we  ought  to  do,  and  the  help  derived  from  prayers  to  God, — are  stated 
as  incontrovertible  philosophical  facts,  of  which  every  man's  experience  may 
convince  him ;  and  Guizot  blames  Pelagius  for  so  exaggerating  the  notion  of 
human  freedom  as  to  lose  sight  of  our  need  of  external  assistance.  And 
there  is  another  chapter  on  the  unity  of  the  Church  no  less  remarkable. 
Now  Guizot  is  Professor  of  History  in  the  University  of  Paris,  and  a  most 
eminent  liberal ;  and  it  seems  to  me  worthy  of  all  notice  to  observe  his  lan- 
guage with  regard  to  religion.  And  I  saw  Niebuhr  at  Bonn,  on  my  way 
home,  and  talked  with  him  for  three  hours ;  and  I  am  satisfied  from  my  own 
ears,  if  I  had  had  any  doubts  before,  of  the  grossness  of  the  slander  which 
called  him  an  unbeliever.  I  was  every  way  delighted  with  him,  and  liked 
very  much  what  I  saw  of  his  wife  and  children.  Trevenen  and  his  wife  en- 
joyed the  journey  exceedingly,  and  are  all  the  better  for  it.  Amongst  other 
things,  I  visited  the  Grand  Chartreuse,  which  is  certainly  enough  to  make  a 
man  romantic,  and  the  Church  of  Madonna  del  Monte ;  from  whence,  or  ra- 
ther from  a  mountain  above  it,  I  counted  twelve  mountain  outlines  between 
me  and  the  horizon, — the  last,  the  ridge  of  the  highest  Alps — upon  a  sky  so 
glowing  with  the  sunset,  that  instead  of  looking  white  from  their  snow,  they 
were  like  the  teeth  of  a  saw  upon  a  plate  of  red  hot  iron,  all  deep  and  black. 
I  was  delighted  also  with  Venice ;  most  of  all  delighted  to  see  the  secret  pri- 
sons of  the  old  aristocracy  converted  into  lumber  rooms,  and  to  see  German 
soldiers  exercising  authority  in  that  place,  which  was  once  the  very  focus  of 
the  moral  degadation  of  the  Italian  race,  the  seat  of  falsehood  and  ignorance 
and  cruelty.  They  talk  of  building  a  bridge  to  Venice  over  the  Lagune;  if 
so,  I  am  glad  that  I  have  seen  it  first.  I  liked  Padua  also,  more  than  I 
thought  I  could  have  liked  the  birth-place  of  Titus  Livius.  The  influence 
of  the  clergy  must  be  great  there,  and  most  beneficially  exercised ;  for  a 
large  institution  for  the  poor  of  Padua,  providing  for  those  who  are  out  of 
work,  as  well  as  for  the  old  and  infirm,  derives  its  main  support  from  legacies ; 
the  clergy  never  failing  to  urge  every  man  who  can  at  all  afford  it  to  leave 
something  at  his  death  for  this  object.  We  came  home  through  the  Tyrol, 
and  through  Wurtemberg  and  Baden,  countries  apparently  as  peaceful  and 
prosperous  and  simple-mannered  as  I  ever  saw ;  it  is  quite  economical  trav- 
elling there.  And  now,  when  shall  I  travel  to  Kenwyn  ?  I  hope  one  of  these 
days  ;  but  whether  in  the  next  winter  or  not,  is  hard  to  say ;  I  only  know 
that  there  are  few  things  which  I  should  enjoy  better.  I  was  so  sorry  to  miss 
old  Tucker,  who  came  here  for  one  day  when  I  was  abroad  ;  he  was  at  Leam- 
ington with  his  sister,  to  consult  our  great  oracle,  Jephson.  Charles,  I  sup- 
pose, is  only  coming  home  upon  leave,  and  will  go  out  again;  I  should  be 
very  glad  to  see  him,  and  to  show  him  his  marks  on  my  Hederic's  Lexicon 
when  he  was  at  Wyatt's.  I  wish  I  may  be  able  to  do  any  thing  for  you  as 
to  a  curate,  but  I  am  very  much  out  of  the  world  in  those  matters,  and  I 
have  no  regular  correspondence  with  Oxford.  I  am  afraid  I  am  sadly  in  dis- 
grace with  all  parties,  between  my  Pamphlet  and  Sermons,  and  I  am  afraid 
that  Thucydides  will  not  mend  the  matter.  As  for  the  pamphlet,  that  is  all 
natural  enough,  but  I  really  did  not  think  there  was  any  cloven  foot  in  the 
Sermons,  nor  did  I  wish  to  show  any ;  not,  I  hope,  from  time-serving,  but 


|72  LIFE  0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

because,  what  you  said  about  the  schism  question,  I  wished  to  do  with  that 
and  divers  other  points, — i.  e.,  reserve  them  for  a  separate  volume,  which  I 
hope  I  may  be  able  to  publish  before  I  die.  There  are  some  points  on  which 
I  feel  almost  as  if  I  had  a  testimony  to  deliver,  which  I  ought  not  to  withhold. 
And  Milman1s  History  of  the  Jews  made  me  more  and  more  eager  to  deliver 
myself  of  my  conceptions.  But  how  to  do  it  without  interfering  with  other 
and  even  more  pressing  duties,  I  cannot  tell.  Last  half  year,  I  preached 
every  Sunday  in  Lent,  and  for  the  last  five  Sundays  of  the  half  year  also, 
besides  other  times ;  and  I  had  to  write  new  sermons  for  all  these,  for  I  can- 
not bear  to  preach  to  the  boys  any  thing  but  what  is  quite  fresh,  and  sug- 
gested by  their  particular  condition.  I  never  like  preaching  any  where  else  so 
well ;  for  one's  boys  are  even  more  than  a  parish,  inasmuch  as  one  knows 
more  of  them  all  individually,  than  can  easily  be  the  case  in  a  parish,  and 

has  a  double  authority  over  them,  temporal  as  well  as  spiritual 

Thouo-h,  to  speak  seriously,  it  is  quite  awful  to  watch  the  strength  of  evil  in 
such  young  minds,  and  how  powerless  is  every  effort  against  it.  It  would 
give  the  vainest  man  alive  a  very  fair  notion  of  his  own  insufficiency,  to  see 
how  little  he  can  do,  and  how  his  most  earnest  addresses  are  as  a  cannon  ball 
on  a  bolster :  thorough  careless  unimpressibleness  beats  one  all  to  pieces. 
And  so  it  is,  and  so  it  will  be ;  and  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  can  quite  say 
that  it  is  much  better  that  it  should  be  so ;  for  it  would  be  too  kindling,  could 
one  perceive  these  young  minds  really  led  from  evil  by  one's  own  efforts ; 
one  would  be  sorely  tempted  to  bow  down  to  one's  own  net.  As  it  is,  the 
net  is  so  palpably  ragged,  that  one  sees  perforce  how  sorry  an  idol  it  would 
make.     But  I  must  go  to  bed,  and  spare  your  eyes  and  your  patience. 


XXI.       TO    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Rugby,  November,  1830. 

I  am  always  glad  to  write  to  you,  but  I  have  now  two  especial  causes 
for  doing  so  ;  one  to  thank  you  for  your  Visitation  sermon,  and  another  to 
explain  to  you  why  I  do  not  think  it  right  to  comply  with  your  wishes  touch- 
ing the  tricolor  work-bag.  For  your  sermon,  I  thank  you  for  it ;  I  believe  I 
agree  with  it  almost  entirely,  waiving  some  expressions,  which  1  hold  one 
never*should  cavil  about,  where  one  agrees  in  substance.  But  have  you 
ever  clearly  defined  to  yourself  what  you  mean  by  "  one  society,"  as  ap- 
plied to  the  whole  Christian  Church  upon  earth  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  most 
of  what  I  consider  the  errors  about  "  the  Church,"  turn  upon  an  imperfect 
understanding  of  this  point.  In  one  sense,  and  that  a  very  important  one, 
all  Christians  belong  to  one  society  ;  but  then  it  is  more  like  Cicero's  sense 
of  "  societas,"  than  what  we  mean  by  a  society.  There  is  a  "  societas  ge- 
neris humani,"  and  a  "  societas  hominum  Chrjstianorum  ;"  but  there  is  not 
one  "  respublica"  or  "  civitas"  of  either,  but  a  great  many.  The  Roman 
Catholics  say  there  is  but  one  "respublica,"  and  therefore,  with  perfect  con- 
sistency, they  say  that  there  must  be  one  central  government :  our  Article, 
if  I  mistake  not  its  sense,  says,  and  with  great  truth,  that  the  Christian  Res- 
publica depends  on  the  political  Respublica ;  that  is,  that  there  may  be  at 
least  as  many  Christian  societies  as  there  are  political  societies,  and  that 
there  may  be,  and  in  our  own  kingdom  are,  even  more.  If  there  be  one 
Christian  society,  in  the  common  sense  of  the  word,  there  must  be  one  go- 
vernment; whereas,  in  point  of  fact,  the  Scotch  Church,  the  English 
Church,  and  the  French  Church,  have  all  separate  and  perfectly  independ- 
ent crovernments  ;  and  consequently  can  only  be  in  an  unusual  and  peculiar 
sense  "  one  society :"  that  is,  spiritually  one,  as  having  the  same  objects 
and  the  same  principles,  and  the  same  supports,  and  the  same  enemies.  You 
therefore  seem  to  me  right,  in  saying  that  a  Roman  Catholic  should  be  ad- 
dressed in  England  as  a  Dissenter  ;  but  all  this  appears  to  me  to  lead  ne- 


LIFE   OF   D&.  ARNOLD.  I73 

eessarily  to  this  conclusion, — that  the  constitution  and  government  of  every 
Church  is  a  political  institution,  and  that  conformity  and  nonconformity  are 
so  far  matters  of  civil  law,  that,  where  nonconformity,  as  in  England,  is 
strictly  legal,  there  it  is  no  offence,  except  in  so  far  as  it  may  be  accompa- 
nied with  heretical  opinions,  which  is  merely  xarw.  av(t(li(Jr\xh$.  For  the 
State  says  that  there  may  be  any  given  number  of  religious  societies  within 
its  jurisdiction — societies,  that  is,  in  the  common  sense  of  the  term,  as  bo- 
dies governing  themselves  ;  and  it  is  clear  that  the  State  may  lawfully  say 
this,  for,  if  the  Church  were  one  society,  in  this  sense,  by  Christ's  institu- 
tion, then  the  Romanist  doctrine  would  be  true,  and,  I  do  not  say  the  Pope, 
but  certainly  a  General  Council  would  possess  an  authority  paramount  in 
ecclesiastical  matters,  payment  of  tithes,  &c,  to  any  local  and  human  au- 
thority of  Kings  or  Parliaments  of  this  or  that  political  division  of  the  hu- 
man race.  I  have  thought  not  a  little  upon  all  this  matter  in  my  time,  and 
I  fancy  that  I  see  my  own  way  straight ;  whether  other  people  will  think  so, 
is  a  different  question. 

(After  explaining  a  false  report  about  a  tricolored  cockade  and  work- 
bag.)  It  is  worse  than  obnoxious  to  apply  this  to  English  politics,  and  if 
any  man  seriously  considers  me  to  wish  for  a  revolulion  here,  wilh  my 
seven  children  and  good  house  to  lose,  to  put  it  on  no  other  ground,  why  he 
must  even  continue  to  think  so.  But  I  do  admire  the  Revolution  in  France 
— admire  it  as  heartily  and  entirely,  as  any  event  recorded  in  history  ;  and  I 
think  that  it  becomes  every  individual,  still  more  every  clergyman,  and 
most  of  all,  every  clergyman  in  a  public  situation,  to  express  this  opinion 
publicly  and  decidedly.  I  have,  not  forgotten  the  twenty  years'  war,  into 
which  the  English  aristocracy  and  clergy  drove  Mr.  Pitt  in  1793,  and  which 
the  Quarterly  Review  and  other  such  writers  are  now  seeking  to  repeat.  I 
hold  it  to  be  of  incalculable  importance,  that,  while  the  conduct  of  France 
has  been  beyond  all  example  pure  and  heroic,  there  should  be  so  manifest  a 
display  of  sympathy  on  the  part  of  England,  as  to  lead  to  a  real  mutual  con- 
fidence and  friendship  between  the  two  countries.  Our  government,  I  be- 
lieve, is  heartily  disposed  to  do  this,  and  I  will  not,  for  one,  shrink  from 
avowing  a  noble  cause  and  a  noble  nation,  because  a  party  in  England,  join- 
ed through  timidity  by  a  number  of  men  who  have  really  no  sympathy  with 
it,  choose  to  try  to  excommunicate  all  who  will  not  join  them.  I  have  my- 
self heard  them  expressing  hearty  approbation  of  the  French  Revolution, 
and  yet  shrink  from  avowing  it,  lest  they  should  appear  to  join  the  Radi- 
cals. And  thus  they  leave  the  Radicals  in  exclusive  possession  of  senti- 
ments, which  they  themselves  join  in,  just  as  'they  would  leave  the  Useful 
Knowledge  Society  to  the  Benthamites.  I  quarrel  with  no  man  for  disap- 
proving of  the  revolution,  except  he  does  it  in  such  a  manner  as  to  excite 
national  animosities,  and  so  tend  to  provoke  a  war ;  but  in  a  case  so  fla- 
grant— a  case  ot  as  clear  right,  as  the  abolition  of  the  slave  trade — it  is  clear- 
ly not  for  the  friends  of  France  to  suppress  or  conceal  their  sentiments. 
About  Belgium  the  case  is  wholly  different:  there,  the  merits  of  the  quar- 
rel are  far  more  doubtful,  and  the.  conduct  oT  the  popular  party  far  less  pure  ; 
and  there  I  have  no  sympathy  with  the  Belgians.  But  France,  if  it. were 
only  for  the  contrast  to  the  first  revolution,  deserves,  I  think,  the  warmest 
admiration,  and  the  most  cordial  expression  of  it.  I  have  written  now  more 
upon  this  subject  than  I  have  either  written  or  spoken  upon  it  before  to  any 
one ;  for  indeed  I  have  very  little  time,  and  no  inclination  for  disputes  on 
such  matters.  But,  if  I  am  questioned  about  my  opinions,  and  required  to 
conceal  them,  as  if  I  were  ashamed  of  them,  I  think  it  right  then  to  avow 
them  plainly,  and  to  explain  my  reasons  for  them.  There  is  not  a  man  in 
England  who  is  less  a  party  man  than  I  am,  for  in  fact  no  party  would  own 

me ;  and,  when  I  was  at 's  in  the  summer,  he  looked  upon  me  to  be 

quite  illiberal.  But  those  who  hold  their  own  opinions  in  a  string,  will  sup- 
pose that  their  neighbours  do  the  same. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE,  SEPTEMBER  1830  TO  DECEMBER  1832. 

Perhaps  no  more  striking  instance  of  his  deep  interest  in  the 
state  of  the  country  could  be  found,  than  in  the  gloom,  with  which 
his  correspondence  is  suddenly  overcast  in  the  autumn  of  1830. 
The  alarming  aspect  of  English  society  brought  to  view  in  the 
rural  disturbances  in  the  winter  of  1830.  and  additionally  darkened 
in  1831-32,  by  the  visitation  of  the  Cholera,  and  the  political  agi- 
tations of  the  Reform  Bill,  little  as  it  came  within  his  own  expe- 
rience, gave  a  colour  to  his  whole  mind.  Of  his  state  of  feeling  at 
this  time,  no  better  example  can  be  given  than  the  five  sermons 
appended  to  the  opening  course  of  his  practical  school  sermons,  in 
his  second  volume,  especially  the  last  of  them,  which  was  preached 
in  the  chapel  on  the  Sunday  when  the  news  of  the  arrival  of  the 
Cholera  in  England  first  reached  Rugby.  There  are  those 
amongst  his  pupils  who  can  never  forget  the  moment  when  on 
that  dark  Novemher  afternoon,  after  the  simple  preface,  stating  in 
what  sense  worldly  thoughts  were  or  were  not  to  be  brought  into 
that  place,  he  at  once  began  with  that  solemnity  which  marked 
his  voice  and  maimer  when  speaking  of  what  deeply  moved  him  : 
':  I  need  not  tell  you  that  this  is  a  marked  time — a  time  such  as 
neither  we,  nor  our  fathers  for  many  generations  before  us,  have 
experienced  ;  and  to  those  who  know  what  the  past  has  been,  it  is 
no  doubt  awful  to  think  of  the  change  which  we  are  now  about  to 
encounter."  (Serm.  vol.  ii.  p.  413.)  But  in  him  the  sight  of  evil, 
and  the  endeavour  to  remove  it,  were  hardly  ever  disjoined  ;  and 
whilst  every  thing  which  he  felt  partook  of  the  despondency  with 
which  that  sermon  opens,  every  thing  which  he  did  partakes  of 
that  cheerful  activity  with  which  the  same  sermon  closes  in  urging 
the  example  of  the  Apostle's  "  wise  and  manly  conduct  amidst  the 
dangers  of  storm  and  shipwreck." 

The  alarm  which  he  felt  was  shared  by  many  of  the  most 
opposite  opinions  to  his  own  ;  but  there  could  have  been  few, 
whom  it  touched  at  once  on  so  many  points.  The  disturbances  of 
the  time  were  to  him  the  very  evils  which  he  had  anticipated  even 
as  far  back  as  1819  ;  they  struck  on  some  of  the  most  sensitive  of 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


175 


his  natural  feelings — his  sense  of  justice,  and  his  impatience  of  the 
sight  of  suffering  :  they  seemed  to  him  symptoms  of  a  deep-seated 
disease  in  all  the  relations  of  English  society — the  results  of  a  long 
series  of  evils  from  the  neglect  of  the  eighteenth  century,  (Church 
Ref.  p.  24) — of  the  lawlessness  of  the  feudal  system,  (Hist  Rome, 
vol.  i.  p.  266) — of  the  oppressions  of  the  Norman  conquest,  (Sheff. 
Letters) — of  the  dissoluteness  of  the  Roman  empire,  (ib.)— of  the 
growth  of  those  social  and  national  sins  which  the  Hebrew  Pro- 
phets had  denounced,  and  which  Christianity  in  its  full  practical 
development  was  designed  to  check. 

Hence  arose  his  anxiety  to  see  the  clergy  take  it  up,  as  he  had 
himself  endeavoured  to  do  in  the  sermons  already  noticed. ' 

"  I  almost  despair,"  he  said,  "  of  any  thing  that  any  private  or  local  ef- 
forts can  do.  I  think  that  the  clergy  as  a  body  might  do  much,  if  they  were 
steadily  to  observe  the  evils  of  the  times,  and  preach  fearlessly  against 
them.  I  cannot  understand  what  is  the  good  of  a  national  Church  if  it  be 
not  to  Christianize  the  nation,  and  introduce  the  principles  of  Christianity 
into  men's  social  and  civil  relations,  and  expose  the  wickedness  of  that  spirit 
which  maintains  the  game  laws,  and  in  agriculture  and  trade  seems  to  think 
that  there  is  no  such  sin  as  covetousness,  and  that  if  a  man  is  not  dishonest, 
he  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  make  all  the  profit  of  his  capital  that  he  can." 

Hence,  again,  his  anxiety  to  impart  or  see  imparted  to  the  pub- 
lications of  the  Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge,  then 
in  the  first  .burst  of  their  reputation,  and  promising  to  exercise  a 
really  extensive  influence  on  the  country  at  large,  something  of 
the  religious  spirit,  in  which  they  seemed  to  him  to  be  deficient. 

"  I  am  not  wishing  to  see  the  Society's  tracts  turned  into  sermons,— fat 
less  to  see  them  intermeddle  in  what  are  strictly  theological  controversies; — 
but  I  am  sure  that,  with  the  exception  of  the  Unitarians,  all  Christians  have 
a  common  ground  in  all  that  is  essential  in  Christianity,  and  beyond  that  I 
never  wish  to  go ; — and  it  does  seem  to  me  as  forced  and  unnatural  in  us 
now  to  dismiss  the  principles  of  the  Gospel  and  its  great  motives  from  our 
consideration —as  is  done  habitually,  for  example,  in  Miss  Edgeworth's 
books, — as  it  is  to  till  our  pages  with  Hebraisms,  and  to  write  and°speak  in 
the  words  and  style  of  the  Bible.  The  slighest  touches  of  Christian  princi- 
ple and  Christian  hope  in  the  Society's  biographical  and  historical  articles 
would  be  a  sort  of  living  salt  to  the  whole  ;— and  would  exhibit  that  union 
which  I  never  will  consent  to  think  unattainable,  between  goodness  and 
wisdom ;— between  every  thing  that  is  manly,  sensible,  and  free,  and  every 
thing  that  is  pure  and  self-denying,  and  humble,  and  heavenly." 

His  communications  with  the  Society,  made,  however,  from  the 
nature  of  the  case,  rather  through  individuals  than  officially,  were 
at  one  time  frequent;  and  though,  from  the  different  view' which 
he  took  of  its  proper  province,  he  was  finally  induced  to  discon- 
tinue them,  he  felt  great  reluctance  in  abandoning  his  hope  of  being 
able  to  co-operate  with  a  body  which  he  "  believed  might,  with 
God's  blessing,  do  more  good  of  all  kinds,  political,  intellectual,  and 
spiritual,  than  any  other  society  in  existence." 

"  There  was  a  show  of  reason,"  he  said,  "  in  excluding  Christianity  from 
the  plan  of  the  Society's  works,  so  long  as  they  avowedly  confined  them- 
selves to  science  or  to  intellectual  instruction :  but  in  a  paper  intended  to 


176  LIFE  0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

improve  its  readers  morally,  to  make  men  better  and  happier,  as  well  as  bet- 
ter informed,  surely  neutrality  with  regard  to  Christianity  is,  virtually,  hos- 
tility." "  For  myself,"  he  adds,  "  I  am  well  aware  of  my  own  insignificance, 
but  if  there  were  no  other  objection  to  the  Penny  Magazine  assuming  a  de- 
cidedly Christian  tone,  than  mere  difficulties  of  execution,  I  would  most  read- 
ily offer  my  best  services,  such  as  they  are,  to  the  Society,  and  would  en- 
deavour to  furnish  them  regularly  with  articles  of  the  kind  that  I  desire.  My 
occupations  here  are  so  engrossing,  that  it  would  be  personally  very  incon- 
venient to  me  to  do  so;  and  I  am  not  so  absurd  as  to  think  my  offer  of  any 
value,  except  in  the  single  case  of  a  practical  difficulty  existing  as  to  finding  a 
writer,  should  the  principle  itself  be  approved  of.  I  am  fully  convinced  that  if 
the  Penny  Magazine  were  decidedly  and  avowedly  Christian,  many  of  the 
clergy  throughout  the  kingdom  would  be  most  delighted  to  assist  its  circula- 
tion by  £v~ery  means  in  their  power.  For  myself,  I  should  think  that  I  could 
not  do  too  much  to  contribute  to  the  support  of  what  would  then  be  so  great 
a  national  blessing:  and  I  should  beg  to  be  allowed  to  offer  £50  annually 
towards  it,  so  long  as  my  remaining  in  my  present  situation  enabled  me  to 
gratify  my  inclinations  to  that  extent." 

The  most  practical  attempt  at  the  realization  of  these  views, 
was  his  own  endeavour  to  set  up  a  weekly  newspaper,  the  Eng- 
lishman's Register,  which  he  undertook  in  1831,  "  more  to  relieve 
his  own  conscience  than  with  any  sanguine  hope  of  doing  good,"  ■ 
but  "  earnestly  desiring  to  speak  to  the  people  the  words  of  truth 
and  soberness — to  tell  them  plainly  the  evils  that  exist,  and  lead 
them,  if  I  can,  to  their  causes  and  their  remedies."  He  was  the 
proprietor,  though  not  the  sole  editor,  and  he  contributed  the  chief 
articles  in  it  (signed  A.),  consisting  chiefly  of  explanations  of 
Scripture,  and  of  comments  on  the  political  events  of  the  day.  It 
died  a  natural  death  in  a  few  weeks,  partly  from  his  want  of 
leisure  to  control  it  properly,  and  from  the  great  expenses  which  it 
entailed  upon  him — partly  from  the  want  of  cordial  sympathy  in 
any  of  the  existing  parties  of  the  country.  Finding,  however,  that 
some  of  his  articles  had  been  copied  into  the  Sheffield  Courant  by 
its  editor,  Mr.  Piatt,  he  opened  a  communication  with  him  in  July, 
1831,  which  he  maintained  ever  afterwards,  and  commenced 
writing  a  series  of  Letters  in  that  paper,  which,  to  the  number  of 
thirteen,  were  afterwards  published  separately,  and  constitute  the 
best  exposition  of  his  views,  on  the  main  causes  of  social  distress 
in  England. 

It  was  now  that,  with  "  the  thirst  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast 
wilderness,  which  in  these  times  of  excitement,"  he  writes  to  a 
friend,  "  is  almost  irresistible,"  he  began  to  turn  his  thoughts  to 
what  ultimately  became  his  home  in  Westmoreland.  It  was  now, 
also,  that  as  he  came  more  into  contact  with  public  affairs,  he 
began  to  feel  the  want  of  sympathy  and  the  opposition  which  he 
subsequently  experienced  on  a  larger  scale.  "  I  have  no  man  like- 
minded  with  me,"  he  writes  to  Archbishop  Whately, — "none  with 
whom  I  can  cordially  sympathize ;  there  are  many  good  men  to 
be  found,  and  many  clever  men,  some  too,  who  are  both  good  and 
clever ;  but  yet  there  is  a  want  of  some  greatness  of  mind,  or  single- 
ness of  purpose,  or  delicacy  of  feeling,  which  makes  them  grate 


LIPE_OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  177 

against  the  edge  of  one's  inner  man."  This  was  the  period  when 
he  felt  most  keenly  his  differences  with  the  so-called  Evangelical 
party,  to  which,  on  the  one  hand,  he  naturally  looked  for  co-opera- 
tion, as  the  body  which  at  that  time  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the 
religious  convictions  of  the  country,  but  from  which,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  was  constantly  repelled  by  his  strong  sense  of  the  obsta- 
cles which  (as  he  thought)  their  narrow  views  and  technical 
phraseology,  were  for  ever  opposing  to  the  real  and  practical  appli- 
cation of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  as  the  remedy  of  the  great 
wants  of  the  age,  social,  moral,  and  intellectual. 

It  was  his  own  conviction  of  these  wants  which  now  more  than 
ever  awakened  his  desire  for  a  commentary  on  the  Scriptures, 
which  should  explain  their  true  reference  to  the  present  state  of 
England  and  of  the  world,  as  well  as  remove  some  of  the  intellec- 
tual difficulties,  especially  in  the  Old  Testament,  to  which  men's 
minds  seemed  to  be  growing  more  and  more  awake.  And  this, 
for  the  time,  he  endeavoured  to  accomplish  by  the  statement  of 
some  of  his  general  principles  of  interpretation  in  the  Essay  on  that 
subject,  which  he  affixed  to  his  second  volume  of  sermons  publish- 
ed in  December  1831.  The  objections  which  this  Essay  excited 
at  the  time  in  various  quarters  were  very  great,  nnd  according  to 
his  own  belief  it  exposed  him  to  more  misunderstanding  than  any 
other  of  his  writings.  But  he  never  wavered  in  the  conviction  that 
its  publication  had  been  an  imperative  duty — it  was  written,  as  he 
said,  "  professionally,  from  his  having  had  so  much  to  do  with 
young  men,  and  from  knowing  what  they  wanted ;"  even  in  the 
last  year  of  his  life,  he  said  that  he  looked  upon  it  as  the  most  im- 
portant thing  he  had  ever  written  ;  and  at  the  time  he  thought  it 
"  likely,  with  God's  blessing,  to  be  so  beneficial,  that  I  published  it 
at  the  end  of  this  volume,  rather  than  wait  for  another  opportunity, 
because  under  that  sense  of  the  great  uncertainty  of  human  life 
which  the  present  state  of  things  brings  especially  home  to  my 
mind,  I  should  be  sorry  to  die  without  having  circulated  what  I 
believe  will  be  to  many  most  useful  and  most  satisfactory ;"  and 
the  objections  which  it  had  roused  only  made  him  more  and  more 
anxious  to  go  on  with  the  subject,  feeling  "that  the  more  it  was 
considered,  men  would  find  that  they  had  been  afraid  of  a  ground- 
less danger,"  and  that  "  the  further  I  follow  up  my  own  views,  the 
more  they  appear  to  me  to  harmonize  with  the  whole  system  of 
God's  revelations,  and  not  only  absolutely  to  do  away  with  all  the 
difficulties  of  the  Scriptures,  but  to  turn  many  of  them  into  valuable 
instructions."1 


XXII.       TO    J.    T.    COLERIDGE,    ESQ.. 

Rugliy,  November  1.  1830. 

It  is  quite  high  time  that  I  should  write  to  you,  for  weeks  and  months  go 
by,  and  it  is  quite  startling  to  think  how  little  communication  I  hold  with  many 

1  Some  of  the  points  touched  upon  in  this  Essay  are  enlarged  upon  in  his  Sermons — 


178 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


of  those  I  love  most  dearly.  And  yet  these  are  times,  when  I  am  least  of  all 
disposed  to  loosen  the  links  that  bind  me  to  my  oldest  and  dearest  friends, 
for  I  imagine  we  shall  all  want  the  union  of  all  the  good  men  we  can  get  to- 
gether;  and  the  want  of  sympathy  which  I  cannot  but  feel  towards  so  many 
of  those  whom  I  meet  with,  makes  me  think  how  delightful  it  would  be  to 
have  daily  intercourse  with  those  with  whom  I  ever  feel  it  thoroughly. 
What  men  do  in  middle  life,  without  a  wife  and  children  to  turn  to,  I  cannot 
imagine ;  for  I  think  the  affections  must  be  sadly  checked  and  chilled,  even 
in  the  best  men,  by  their  intercourse  with  people,  such  as  one  usually  finds 
them  in  the  world.  I  do  not  mean  that  one  does  not  meet  with  good  and 
sensible  people ;  but  then  their  minds  are  set,  and  our  minds  are  set,  and 
they  will  not,  in  mature  age,  grow  into  each  other.  But  with  a  home  filled 
with  those  whom  we  entirely  love  and  sympathize  with,  and  with  some  old 
.friends,  to  whom  one  can  open  one's  heart  fully  from  time  to  time,  the  world's 
society  has  rather  a  bracing  influence  to  make  one  shake  off  mere  dreams  of 
delight.  You  must  not  think  me  bilious  or  low-spirited  ; — I  never  felt  better 
or  more  inclined  to  work  ; — but  one  gets  pathetic  with  thinking  of  the  pre- 
sent and  the  past,  and  of  the  days  and  the  people  that  you  and  I  have  seen 
together,  and  of  the  progress  which  we  have  all  made  towards  eternity ;  for 
I,  "who  am  nearly  the  youngest  of  our  old  set,  have  completed  half  my  three 
score  and  ten  years.  Besides,  the  aspect  of  the  times  is  really  to  my  mind 
awful : — on  one  side  a  party  profaning  the  holiest  names  by  the  lowest  prin- 
ciples, and  the  grossest  selfishness  and  ignorance, — on  the  other,  a  party 
who  seem  likely  /.axov  y.axw  laa&ai,  who  disclaim  and  renounce  even  the 
very  name  of  that,  whose  spirit  their  adversaries  have  long  renounced  equal- 
ly. If  I  had  two  necks,  I  should  think  that  I  had  a  very  good  chance  of  be- 
ing hanged  by  both  sides,  as  I  think  I  shall  now  by  whichever  gets  the  bet- 
ter, if  it  really  does  come  to  a  fight.  I  read  now,  with  the  deepest  sympathy, 
those  magnificent  lines  of  your  Uncle's,  on  the  departed  year,  and  am  my- 
self, in  fact,  experiencing  some  portion  of  the  abuse  which  he  met  with  from 
the  same  party;  while,  like  him,  I  feel  utterly  unable  to  shelter  myself  in  the 
opposite  party,  whose  hopes  and  principles  are  such  as  I  shrink  from  with 
abhorrence.  So  what  Thucydides  says  of  ia  fuaa  tmv  noUtmv  often  rises 
upon  my  mind  as  a  promising  augury  of  my  future  exaltation,  ij  nov  tzqo 
Nianvlr]tz  at,wjt]d-t'vro<;.  ij  tfinvyt  noh  PnvySflcu;. 

November  3rd. — I  wrote  these  two  sides  in  school  on  Monday,  and  I  hope 
to  finish  the  rest  of  my  letter  this  evening,  while,  my  boys  are  translating 
into  Latin  from  my  English  that  magnificent  part  in  the  De  Oratore,  about 
the  death  ofCrassus.  I  see  I  have  given  you  enough  of  discourse  on  things 
in  general — I  will  only  add  one  thing  more  ;  that  I  know  there  are  reports 
in  Oxford  of  my  teaching  the  boys  my  politics,  and  setting  revolutionary 
themes.  If  you  hear  these  reports,  will  you  contradict  them  flatly?  I  never 
disguise  or  suppress  my  opinions,  but  I  have  been  and  am  most  religiously 
careful  not  to  influence  my  boys  with  thempand  I  have  just  now  made 
them  begin  Russell's  Modern  Europe  again,  because  we  were  come  to  the 
period  of  the  French  Revolution,  and  I  did  not  choose  to  enter  upon  that 
subject  with  them.  As  to  the  revolutionary  themes,  I  cannot  even  imagine 
the  origin  of  so  absurd  a  falsehood,  except  it  be  that  one  of  my  subjects 
last  half  year  was  "  the  particular  evils  which  civilized  society  is  exposed 
to.  as  opposed  to  savage  life,"  which  I  gave  for  the  purpose  of  clearing  their 
notions  about  luxury,  and  the  old  declamations  about  Scythian  simplicity, 
&c. ;  but  I  suppose  that  I  am  thought  to  have  a  longing  for  the  woods,  and  an 
impatience  of  the  restraint  of  breeches.  It  is  really  too  great  a  folly  to  be 
talked  of  as  a  revolutionist,  with  a  family  of  seven  young  children,  and  a 
house  and  income  that  I  should  be  rather  puzzled  to  match  in  America,  if  I 
were  obliged  to  change  my  quarters.  My  quarrel  with  the  anti-liberal  party 

that  on  "the  Lord's  day,"  in  the  3rd  volume,  and   those  on  "  Phinehas,"  "  Jael,"  and 
M  the  Disobedient  Prophet,"  in  the  6th. 


LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  179 

is,  that  they  are  going  the  way  to  force  my  children  to  America,  and  to  de- 
prive me  and  every  one  else  of  property,  station,  and  all  the  inestimabb 
benefits  of  society  in  England.  There  is  nothing  so  revolutionary,  becau  e 
there  is  nothing  so  unnatural  and  so  convulsive  to  society,  as  the  strain  to 
keep  things  fixed,  when  all  the  world  is,  by  the  very  law  of  its  creation,  in 
eternal  progress  ;  and  the  cause  of  all  the  evils  of  the  world  may  be  traced 
to  that  natural  but  most  deadly  error  of  human  indolence  and  corruption, 
that  our  business  is  to  preserve  and  not  to  improve.  It  is  the  ruin  of  us  all 
alike,  individuals,  schools,  and  nations. 


XXIII.      TO    HIS    SISTER    SUSANNAH    ARNOLD. 

Rugby,  November,  1830. 

1  The  paramount  interest  of  public  affairs  outweighs  with  me  even  the 
school  itself;  and  I  think  not  unreasonably,  for  school  and  all  would  go  to 
the  dogs,  if  the  convulsion  which  I  dread  really  comes  to  pass.  I  must  write 
a  pamphlet  in  the  holidays,  or  I  shall  burst. 

No  one  seems  to  me  to  unders'and  our  dangers,  or  at  least  to  speak  them 
out  manfully.  One  good  man,  who  sent  a  letter  to  the  Times  the  other  day, 
recommends  that  the  clergy  should  preach  subordination  and  obedience.  I 
seriously  say,  God  forbid  they  should  ;  for,  if  any  earthly  thing  could  ruin 
Christianity  in  England,  it  would  be  this.  If  they  read  Isaiah  and  Jeremiah 
and  Amos  and  Habakuk,  they  will  find  that  the  Prophets,  in  a  similar  state 
of  society  in  Judea,  did  not  preach  subordination  only  or  chiefly,  but  they 
denounced  oppression,  and  amassing  overgrown  properties,  and  grinding  the 
labourers  to  the  smallest  possible  pittance  ;  and  they  denounced  the  Jewish 
high-church  party  for  countenancing  all  these  iniquities,  and  prophesying 
emooth  things  to  please  the  aristocracy.  If  the  clergy  would  come  forward 
as  one  man  from  Cumberland  to  Cornwall,  exhorting  peaceableness  on  the 
one  side,  and  justice  on  the  other,  denouncing  the  high  rents  and  the  game 
laws,  and  the  carelessness  which  keeps  the  poor  ignorant,  and  then  wonders 
that  they  are  brutal,  I  verily  believe  they  might  yet  save  themselves  and 
the  state.  But  the  truth  is  that  we  are  living  amongst  a  population  whom 
we  treat  with  all  the  haughtiness  and  indifference  that  we  could  treat  slaves, 
whom  we  allow  to  be  slaves  in  ignorance,  without  having  them  chained  and 
watched  to  prevent  them  from  hurting  us.  I  only  wish  you  could  read  Ar- 
thur Young's  Travels  in  France  in  1789  and  1790,  and  see  what  he  says  of 
the  general  outbreak  then  of  the  peasantry,  when  they  burnt  the  chateaux 
all  over  France,  and  ill-used  the  families  of  the  proprietors,  and  then  com- 
pare the  orderliness  of  the  French  populace  now.  It  speaks  volumes  for 
small  subdivided  properties,  general  intelligence  and  an  absence  of  aristo- 
cratical  manners  and  distinctions.  We  know  that,  in  the  first  revolution,  to 
be  seen  in  decent  clothes  was  at  one  time  a  sure  road  to  the  guillotine  ;  so 
bitter  was  the  hatred  engendered  in  a  brute  population  against  those  who 
had  gone  on  in  luxury  and  refinement,  leaving  their  poorer  neighbours  to 
remain  in  the  ignorance  and  wretchedness  of  savages,  and  therefore  with 
the  ferocity  of  savages  also.  The  dissolution  of  the  ministry  may  do  some- 
thing ;  but  the  evil  exists  in  every  parish  in  England;  and  there  should  be 
a  reform  in  the  ways  and  manners  of  every  parish  to  cure  it.  We  have  got 
up  a  dispensary  here,  and  I  am  thinking  of  circulating  small  tracts  a  la 
Cobbett,  in  point  of  style,  to  show  the  people  the  real  state  of  things  and 
their  causes.  Half  the  truth  might  be  of  little  use,  but  ignorance  of  all  the 
truth  is  something  fearful,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  whole  truth  would.  I  am 
convinced,  do  nothing  but  pacify,  because  the  fault  of  the  rich  has  been  a  sin 
of  ignorance  and  thoughtlessness  ;  they  have  only  done  what  the  poor  would 
have  done  in  their  places,  because  few  men's  morality  rises  higher  than  to 
take  care  of  themselves,  abstaining  from  actual  wrong  to  others.     So  you 


]30  LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

have  got  a  long  sermon.  showed  me  a  copy  of  the  Record  newspa- 
per, a  true  specimen  of  the  party,  with  their  infinitely  little  minds,  disputing 
about  anise  and  cummin,  when  heaven  and  earth  are  coming  together  around 
them ;  with  much  of  Christian  harmlessness,  I  do  not  deny,  but  with  no- 
thing of  Christian  wisdom  ;  and  these  are  times  when  the  dove  can  ill  spare 
the  addition  of  the  serpent.  The  state  of  affairs,  therefore,  keeps  me 
doubtful  about  going  from  home  in  the  holidays,  because,  if  there  is  likely 
to  be  any  opening  for  organizing  any  attempts  at  general  reform,  I  should 
not  like  to  be  away  from  my  post.  But  the  interest  is  too  intense,  and  makes 
me  live  ten  lives  in  one  every  day.  However,  I  am  very  well,  and  perfectly 
comfortable  as  far  as  regards  family  and  school. 


XXIV.      TO    REV.   JULIUS    HARE. 

Rugby,  November  12,  1830. 

Your  account  of  the  MSS.  is  very  tempting: — the  one  which  I  wanted 
is  that  marked  "  Hudsoni  Codex  Clarendonius,"  but  I  find  from  you  that 
there  is  another,  and  I  know  that  it  can  never  have  been  collated,  so  that  I 
•am  exceedingly  desirous,  if  it  be  possible,  to  get  the  two.  But  would  it  not 
be  better  that  I  should  give  the  security  in  my  own  name,  rather  than  entail 
that  trouble  upon  you  1  And  if  the  bond  required  be  for  a  considerable 
sum,  perhaps  it  ought  to  be  in  my  name,  to  prevent  difficulties  with  my  ex- 
ecutors in  case  of  my  death ;  a  contingency  which  I  think  every  man  should 
bear  in  mind  in  all  money  transactions.  The  Birmingham  coach  I  think 
goes  through  Dunchurch,  within  three  miles  of  us,  and  if  so,  any  parcel  s^ent 
by  it  to  me  would  be  left  there,  if  so  directed,  and  would  be  forwarded  to  me 
immediately.  I  cannot  close  this  letter  without  thanking  you  most  warmly 
for  the  invaluable  man  you  procured  me  in  Lee.  He  is,  indeed,  far  too 
good  for  any  subordinate  situation,  yet  having  once  had  such  a  man  here, 
it  will  be  a  bitter  loss  to  be  obliged  to  part  with  him.  I  trust,  however,  that 
we  may  keep  him  for  a  few  years  at  least. 


XXV.      TO    REV.    AUGUSTUS    HARE. 

December  24,  1830. 

I  have  longed  very  much  to  see  you,  over  and  above  my 

general  wish  that  we  could  meet  oftener,  ever  since  this  fearful  state  of  our 
poor  has  announced  itself  even  to  the  blindest.  My  dread  is  that  when  the 
special  Commissions  shall  have  done  their  work,  (necessary  and  just  I  most 
cordially  agree  with  you  that  it  is,)  the  richer  classes  will  again  relapse  into 
their  old  callousness,  and  the  seeds  be  sown  of  a  far  more  deadly  and  irre- 
mediable quarrel  hereafter.  If  you  can  get  Arthur  Young's  Travels  in 
France.  I  think  you  will  be  greatly  struck  with  their  applicability  to  our  own 
times  and  country.  He  shows  how  deadly  was  the  hatred  of  the  peasantry 
towards  the  lords,  and  how  in  1789  the  chateaux  were  destroyed,  and  the 
families  of  the  gentry  insulted,  from  a  common  feeling  of  hatred  to  all  who 
had  made  themselves  and  the  poor  two  orders,  and  who  were  now  to  pay 
the  penalty  of  having  put  asunder  what  God  had  joined.  At  this  moment 
Carlile  tells  the  poor  that  they  and  the  rich  are  enemies,  and  that  to 
destroy  the  property  of  an  enemy,  whether  by  fire  or  otherwise,  is  always 
lawful  in  war — a  Devil's  doctrine,  certainly,  and  devilishly  applied  ;  but  un- 
questionably our  aristocratical  manners  and  habits  have  made  us  and  the 
poor  two  distinct  and  unsympathizing  bodies  ;  and  from  want  of  sympathy, 
I  fear  the  transition  to  enmity  is  but  too  easy  when  distress  embitters  the 
feelings,  and  the  sight  of  others  in  luxury  makes  that  distress  still  more  in- 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


181 


tolerable.  This  is  the  plague  spot  to  my  mind  in  our  whole  state  of  society, 
which  must  be  removed  or  the  whole  must  perish.  And  under  God  it  is  for 
the  clergy  to  come  forward  boldly  and  begin  to  combat  it.  If  you  read 
Isaiah,  chap.  v.  iii.  xxxii. ;  Jeremiah,  chap.  v.  xxii.  xxx. ;  Amos,  iv. ;  Ha- 
bakkuk,  ii. ;  and  the  Epistle  of  St.  James,  written  to  the  same  people  a  little 
before  the  second  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  you  will  be  struck,  I  think,  with 
the  close  resemblance  of  our  own  state  to  that  of  the  Jews  ;  while  the  state 
of  the  Greek  Churches  to  whom  St.  Paul  wrote  is  wholly  different,  because 
from  their  thin  population  and  better  political  circumstances,  poverty  among 
them  is  hardly  noticed,  and  our  duties  to  the  poor  are  consequently  much 
less  prominently  brought  forward.  And  unluckily  our  Evangelicals  read  St 
Paul  more  than  any  other  part  of  the  Scriptures,  and  think  very  little  of 
consulting  most  those  parts  of  Scripture  which  are  addressed  to  persons 
circumstanced  most  like  ourselves.  I  want  to  get  up  a  real  Poor  Man's 
Magazine,  which  should  not  bolster  up  abuses  and  veil  iniquities,  nor  prose 
to  the  poor  as  to  children ;  but  should  address  them  in  the  style  of  Cobbett, 
plainly,  boldly,  and  in  sincerity,  excusing  nothing — concealing  nothing — and 
misrepresenting  nothing — but  speaking  the  very  whole  truth  in  love — Cob- 
bett-like  in  style — but  Christian  in  spirit.  Now  you  are  the  man  I  think  to 
join  with  me  in  such  a  work,  and  most  earnestly  do  I  wish  that  you  would 

think  of  it I  should  be  for  putting  my  name  to  whatever  I  wrote 

of  this  nature,  for  I  think  that  it  is  of  great  importance  that  our  addresses 
should  be  those  of  substantive  and  tangible  persons,  not  of  anonymous 
shadows. 


XXVI.       TO    REV.    H.  MASSINGBERD. 

Rugby,  February,  1831. 

This  is  my  constant  defence  of  a  liberal  government';  the 

high  wisdom  and  purity  of  their  principles  are  overwhelming  to  their  human 
infirmity,  and  amidst  such  a  mass  of  external  obstacles.  But  what  do  we 
gain  by  getting  in  exchange  men  who  cannot  fall  short  of  their  principles, 
only  because  their  principles  are  zero?  As  to  the  budget,  I  liked  it  in  its 
first  state,  although  the  F«x  Romuli,  i.  e.  the  fundholders,  made  such  an 
outcry  about  it.  What  between  the  landed'  aristocracy  and  the  moneyed 
aristocracy,  the  interests  of  the  productive  classes  are  generally  sure  to  go  to 
the  wall ;  and  this  goes  on  for  a  time,  till  at  last  the  squeeze  gets  intolerable, 
and  then  productive  classes  put  up  their  backs,  and  push  in  their  turn  so  vig- 
orously, that  rank  and  property  get  squeezed  in  their  turn  against  the  wall 
opposite.  O  utinam  !  that  they  would  leave  each  other  their  fair  share  of 
the  road ;  for  I  honour  aristocracy  in  its  proper  place,  and  in  France  should 
try  to  raise  it  with  all  my  might,  for  there  it  is  now  too  low.  simply  because 
it  was  once  too  high.  Dii  omen  avertant,  and  may  the  Tories  who  are  ho- 
ping to  defeat  the  Ministers  on  the  Reform  question,  remember  how  bitterly 
the  French  aristocracy  had  cause  to  repent  their  triumph  over  Turgot. 
"  Flectere  si  nequeo  superos,  Acheronta  movebo,"  is  the  cry  of  Reform 
when,  long  repulsed  and  scorned,  she  is  on  the  point  of  changing  her  visage 
to  that,  of  Revolution.  What  you  say  about  the  progress  of  a  people  to- 
wards liberty,  and  their  unfitness  for  rt  at  an  earlier  stage,  I  fully  agree  in. 
If  ever  my  Thucydides  falls  in  your  way,  you  will  find  in  the  Appendix,  No. 
1,  a  full  dissertation  on  this  matter. 


XXVII.       TO    THE    ARCHBISHOP    OF    DUBLIN. 

Rugby,  March  7,  1831. 

I  am  most  truly  obliged  to  you  for  all  your  advice  and  collected  opinions 
about  the  Register.     Now,  certainly,  I  never  should  embark  in  such  a  scheme 


\Q£  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

for  my  own  amusement.  I  have  enough  to  do  in  all  reason.  I  am  not  so 
craving  after  the  honour  of  appearing  in  print,  as  to  wish  to  turn  newspaper 
writer  on  that  account.  I  should  most  wish  that  the  thing  were  not  needed 
at  all ;  next,  that  it  might  he  done  by  somebody  else,  without  my  taking  part 
in  it.  But  all  seem  to  agree  that  it  is  needed,  grievously  needed,  and  will 
any  body  else  undertake  it  1  That  is  to  my  mind  the  real  question.  For  if 
not,  I  think  there  is. a  great  call  for  much  to  be  risked,  and  much  to  be  braved, 
and  the  thing  done  imperfectly  is  better  than  not  done  at  all.     So  much  for 

the  principle The  aidof  liberal  Tories  I  should  be  most 

thankful  for,  and  I  earnestly  crave  it ;  but  never  will  I  join  with  the  High 

Church  party It  would  be  exposing  myself  to  the  fate  of 

Amphiareus  with  a  vengeance,  for  such  co-operation  would  sink  any  thing 

into  the  earth,  or  else  render  it  such  that  it  had  better  be  sunk 

Most  earnestly  would  I  be  Conservative  ;  but  defend  me  from  the  Conserva- 
tive party — i.  e.  from  those  who  call  themselves  so  par  excellence.  Above  all, 
I  cannot  understand  why  a  failure  should  be  injurious  to  future  efforts.  A 
bad  history  of  any  one  particular  period,  may  doubtless  hinder  sensible  men 
from  writing  upon  the  same  period ;  but  I  cannot  see  how  a  foolish  newspa- 
per, dying  in  1831.  should  affect  a  wise  one  in  1832 ;  and  if  the  thing  is  im- 
practicable rei  natura,  then,  neither  mine,  nor  any  other  with  the  same  views, 
will  ever  answer.  Certainly  our  failure  is  very  conceivable — very  probable 
if  you  will ;  but  something  must  be  risked,  and  I  think  the  experimentum 
will  be  made  "  in  corpore  vili ;"  for  all  the  damage  will  be  the  expense 
which  it  will  cost  me,  and  that  of  course  I  shall  not  stand  beyond  a  certain 

point.     Ergo,  I  shall  try  a  first  number In  the  opinions  I 

have  already  received,  I  have  been  enough  reminded  of  Gaffer  Grist,  Gaf- 
fer's son,  and  a  little  jackass.  &c. ;  but  I  have  learned  this  good  from  it,  i.  e. 
to  follow  my  own  judgment,  adopting  from  the  opinions  of  others  just  what 
I  approve  of,  and  no  more.  One  thing  you  may  depend  on,  that  nothing 
shall  ever  interfere  with  my  attention  to  the  school.  Thucydides,  Register 
and  all,  should  soon  go  the  dogs  if  they  were  likely  to  do  that.  I  have  got 
a  gallows  at  last,  and  am  quite  happy ;  it  is  like  getting  a  new  twenty  horse 
power  in  my  capacities  for  work.  I  could  laugh  like  Democritus  himself  at 
the  notion  of  my  being  thought  a  dangerous  person,  when  1  hang  happily 
on  my  gallows,  or  make  it  serve  as  a  target  to  spear  at. 


XXVHI.   TO  CHEVALIER  BUNSEN. 

Rugby,  March  20,  1831. 

I  was  reminded  of  you  when  I  heard  of  the  great  loss  that  all 

Europe  has  sustained  in  the  sudden  death  of  Niebuhr.  I  knew  your  personal 
admiration  and  regard  for  him,  and  that  you  wcmld  feel  his  loss  privately  as 
well  as  publicly.  Besides  all  this,  the  exceedingly  anxious  state  of  public 
affairs  has  naturally  made  me  think  of  you,  whose  views  on  those  matters  I 
had  found  to  be  so  entirely  in  agreement  with  my  own.  Our  accounts  of 
Italy  are  very  imperfect,  but  there  have  been  reports  of  disturbances  in  Rome 
itself,  which  made  me  wish  that  you  and  your  family  were  in  a  more  tran- 
quil country,  or  at  least,  in  one,  where,  if  there  were  any  commotions,  you 
might  be  able  to  be  of  more  service  than  you  could  be  amongst  foreigners 
and  Italians. 

I  was  again  in  Italy  this  last  summer We  were  at  Venice  during 

the  Revolution  at  Paris,  and  the  first  intelligence  I  heard  of  it  was  from  the 
postmaster  at  the  little  town  of  Bludenz  in  the  Vorarlberg.  The  circum- 
stances under  which  I  first  heard  of  it,  will  never,  I  think,  depart  from  my 
memory.  We  had  been  enjoying  the  most  delightful  summer  weather 
throughout  our  tour,  and  particularly  in  all  the  early  part  of  that  very  day; 
when,  just  as  we  arrived  at  Bludenz,  about  four  or  five  in  the  afternoon,  the 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  ]83 

whole  sky  was  suddenly  overcast,  the  wind  arose  violently,  and  every  thing 
announced  the  approach  of  a  complete  Alpine  storm.  We  were  in  the  very 
act  of  putting  up  the  head  of  the  carriage  and  preparing  for  the  coming 
rain,  when  the  postmaster,  in  answer  to  an  observation  of  mine  about  the 
weather  when  I  had  passed  through  France  a  few  weeks  before,  seemed  to 
relieve  himself  by  telling  me  of  all  the  troubles  that  were  then  raging.  His 
expression  was,  "  Alles  ist  ubel  in  Frankreich,"  the  mere  tumult  and  vio- 
lence of  political  quarrels  seeming  to  the  inhabitant  of  a  Tyrolese  valley, 
as  something  shocking,  because  it  was  so  unpeaceful.  Hearing  only  indis- 
tinct accounts  of  what  was  going  on,  we  resolved  not  to  enter  France  imme- 
diately, but  to  go  round  by  the  Rhine  through  Wirtemberg  and  Baden ;  a 
plan  which  I  shall  now  ever  think  of  with  pleasure,  as  otherwise  I  never 
should  have  seen  Niebuhr.  I  was  very  glad  too,  to  see  something  more  of 
Germany ;  only  it  was  rather  vexatious  to  be  obliged  to  pass  on  so  quickly, 
for  I  could  not  wait  at  Heidelberg  long  enough  to  see  Creuzer,  and  my  stay 
even  at  Bonn  was  only  one  afternoon.  I  had  the  happiness  of  sitting  three 
hours  with  Niebuhr,  and  he  introduced  me  to  his  poor  wife  and  children. 
His  conversation  completely  verified  the  impression  which  you  had  given  me 
of  his  character,  and  has  left  me  with  no  recollections  but  such  as  are  satis- 
factory to  think  of  now.  The  news  l  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans'  accession  to 
the  French  throne  reached  Bonn  while  t  was  with  Niebuhr,  and  I  was  struck 
with  the  enthusiastic  joy  which  he  displayed  on  hearing  it.  I  fully  expected 
that  the  Revolution  in  France  would  lead  to  one  in  Belgium ;  and  indeed, 
we  passed  through  Brussels  scarcely  ten  days  before  the  insurrection  broke 
out.  You  are  so  well  acquainted  with  English  politics,  that  you  will  take  a 
deep  interest  in  the  fate  of  the  Reform  Bill,  now  before  Parliament.  I  believe 
that,  if  it  passes  now,  "  Felix  sa^clorum  nascitur  ordo  ;"  that  the  aristocracy 
still  retain  a  strong  hold  on  the  respect  and  regard  of  England,,  and  if  their 
excessive  influence  is  curtailed,  they  will  be  driven  to  try  to.  gain  a  more 
legitimate  influence,  to  be  obtained  by  the  exercise  of  those  great  and  good 
qualities  which  so  many  of  them  possess.  At  present  this  may  be  done  ;  but 
five  years  hence  the  democratical  spirit  may  have  gained  such  a  height,  that 
the  utmost  virtue  on  the  part  of  the  aristocracy  will  be  unable  to  save  it. 
And  I  think  nearly  the  same  with  regard  to  the  Church.  Reform  would 
now,  I  fully  believe,  prevent  destruction;  but  every  year  of  delayed  reform 
strengthens  those  who  wish  not  to  amend,  but  to  destroy.  Meanwhile,  the 
moral  state  of  France  is  to  me  most  awful ;  I  sympathized  fully  with  the 
Revolution  in  July,  but  if  this  detestable  warlike  spirit  gets  head  amongst  the 
French  people,  I  hope,  and  earnestly  believe,  th'at  we  shall  see  another  and 
more  effectual  coalition  of  1815  to  put  it  down.  Nothing  can  be  more  oppo- 
site than  Liberalism  and  Bonapartism  ;  and,  I  fear,  the  mass  of  the  French 
people  are  more  thirsting  to  renew  the  old  career  of  spoliation  and  conquest 
than  to  establish  or  promote  true  liberty  ;  "  for  who  loves  that,  must  first  be 
wise  and  good."  My  hope  is  that,  whatever  domestic  abuses  may  exist, 
Germany  will  never  forget  the  glorious  struggle  of  1813,  and  will  know  that 
the  tread  of  a  Frenchman  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Rhine  is  the  worst  of  all 
pollutions  to  her  soil.  And  I  trust  and  think,  that  the  general  feeling  in 
England  is  strong  on  this  point,  and  that  the  whole  power  of  the  nation 
would  be  heartily  put  forth  to  strangle  in  the  birth  the  first  symptoms  of 

Napoleonism.     I  was  at  a  party  at in  the  summer,  at  Geneva,  where  I 

met  Thierry,  the  historian  of  "Les  Gaulois,"  and  the  warlike  spirit 
which  I  perceived,  even  then,  in  the  French  liberals,  made  a  deep  impression 
on  me. 

1  See  Extracts  from  Journals,  in  1830,  in  the  Appendix. 


134  LIFE   0F   DR  ARNOLD. 

XXIX.      TO     JOHN    WARD,    ESQ. 
(Co-Editor  with  him  of  the  Englishman's  Register.) 

Rugby,  April  27,  1831. 

Your  own  articles  I  have  carefully  read  over ;  and,  in  style,  they  more 
than  answer  all  my  expectations.  Still,  as  we  are  beginning  a  work  which 
must  take  its  character  chiefly  from  us  two,  I  will  fairly  say  that,  consider- 
ing for  whom  Ave  are  principally  writing,  I  think  the  spirit  too  polemical. 
When  I  speak  of  the  aristocracy  of  England  bearing  hard  upon  the  poor,  I 
always  mean  the  whole  class  of  gentlemen,  and  not  the  nobility  or  great 
landed  and  commercial  proprietors.  I  cannot  think  that  you  or  I  suffer  from 
any  aristocracy  above  us,  but  we  ourselves  belong  to  a  part  of  society  which 
has  not  done  its  duty  to  the  poor,  although,  with  no  intention  to  the  con- 
trary, but  much  the  reverse.  Again,  I  regard  the  Ministerial  Reform  Bill 
as  a  safe  and  a  necessary  measure,  and  I  should,  above  all  things,  dread  its 
rejection,  but  I  cannot  be  so  sanguine  as  you  are  about  its  good  effects ;  be- 
cause I  think  that  the  people  are  quite  as  likely  to  choose  men  who  will 
commit  blunders  and  injustice  as  the  boroughmongers  are,  though  not  ex- 
actly of  the  same  sort.  Above  all,  in  writing  to  the  lower  people,  my  object 
is  much  more  to  improve  them  morally  than  politically;  and  I  would,  there- 
fore, carefully  avoid  exciting  political  violence  in  them Now  so 

far  as  the  Register  is  concerned,  I  care  comparatively  little  about  the  Re- 
form Bill,  but  I  should  wish  to  explain,  as  you  have  done  most  excellently, 
the  baseness  of  corruption  on  one  hand,  and  as  I  think  you  might  do,  the 
mischief  of  party  and  popular  excitement  on  the  other.  I  should  urge  the 
duty  of  trying  to  learn  the  merits  of  the  case,  and  that  an  ignorant  vote  is 
little  better  than  a  corrupt  one,  where  the  ignorance  could  in  any  degree  be 
helped.  But  in  such  an  address  I  would  not  assume  that  the  Reform  Bill 
would  do  all  sorts  of  good,  and  that  every  honest  man  must  be  in  favour  of 
it:  because  such  assertions,  addressed  to  ignorant  men,  are  doing  the  very 
thing  I  deprecate,  i  e.  trying  rather  to  get  their  vote,  than  to  make  that 
vote,  whether  it  be  given  for  us  or  against  us,  really  independent  and  re- 
spectable. Again,  with  the  debt.  It  is  surely  a  matter  of  importance  to 
show  that  the  greatest  part  of  our  burthens  is  owing  to  this,  and  not  to 
present  extravagance.  It  affords  a  memorable  lesson  against  foolish  and 
unjust,  wars,  and  the  selfish  carelessness  with  which  they  were  waged. 
This  you  have  put  very  well,1  and  have  properly  put  down  the  nonsense  of 
the  '•  Debt  being  no  harm."  Urge  all  this  as  strongly  as  you  will,  to  pre- 
vent any  repetition  of  the  loan  system  for  the  time  to  come.  But  the  fund- 
holders  are  not  to  blame  for  the  Debt ;  they  lent  their  money ;  and  if  the 
money  was  wasted,  that  was  no  fault  of  theirs.  Pay  the  debt  off",  if  you  will 
and  can,  or  make  a  fair  adjustment  of  the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of 
different  sorts  of  property,  with  a  view  of  putting  them  all  on  equal  terms ;  but 
surely  the  fundholder's  dividends  are  as  much  his  lawful  property  as  a  land- 
holder's estate,  or  a  merchant's  or  manufacturer's  capital,  liable  justly,  like  all 
other  property,  to  the  claims  of  severe  national  distress ;  but  only  together  with 
other  property,  and  by  no  means  as  if  it  were  more  just  in  the  nation  to  lay 
hands  on  the  fundholder's  dividends  than  on  the  profits  of  your  law  or  of 
my  school.  Nor  can  the  fundholders  be  fairly  said  to  be  living  in  idleness 
at  the  expense  of  the  nation  in  any  invidious  sense,  any  more  than  your 
clients  who  borrowed  my  money  could  say  it  of  me,  if  they  had  borrowed 
£10,000  of  me  instead  of  £300,  and  then  choose  to  go  and  fool  it  away  in 
fireworks  and  illuminations,  if  they  had  spent  the  principal  no  doubt  they 
would  find  it  a  nuisance  to  pay  the  interest,  but  still,  am  I  to  be  the  loser, 
or  can  I  fairly  be  said,  if  I  get  my  interest  duly  paid,  to  be  living  at  their- 

1  On  this  he  felt  at  all  times  strongly.  "  Woe  be  to  that  generation,"  he  would  say, 
"  that  is  living  in  England  when  the  coal-mines  are  exhausted  and  the  National  Debt 
not  paid  off." 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  ,o- 

expense  ?  Besides,  as  a  mere  matter  of  policy,  we  should  be  ejected  at 
once  from  most  of  the  quarters  where  we  might  otherwise  circulate  if 
we  are  thought  to  countenance  in  any  degree  the  notion  of  a  "spono-e."1' 

The  "tea  monopoly,"  as  you  call  it,  involves  the  whole  question  of  the 
Indian  charter,  and  in  fact  of  the  Indian  empire.  The  "  timber  monopoly  " 
involves  far  more  questions  than  I  can  answer,  about  Canada,  and  the  ship- 
ping interest,  and  whether  the  economical  principle  of  buying  where  you 
can  buy  cheapest,  is  always  to  be  acted  upon  by  a  nation,  merely  because  it 
is  economically  expedient.  Even  about  the  Corn  Lawsj  there  are  difficul- 
ties connected  with  the  question  that  are  not  to  be  despised,  and  I  would 
rather  not  cut  the  knot  so  abruptly I  wish  to  distinguish  the  Regis- 
ter from  all  other  papers  by  two  things :  that  politics  should  hold  in  it  Just 
that  place  which  they  should  do  in  a  well-regulated  mind ;  that  is  as  one 
field  of  duty,  but  by  no  means  the  most  important  one  ;  and  that  with'respect 
to  this  field,  our  duty  should  rather  be  to  soothe  than  to  excite,  rather  to  fur- 
nish tacts,  and  to  point  out  the  difficulties  of  political  questions,  than  to  press 
forward  our  own  conclusions.  There  are  publications  enough  to  excite  the 
people  to  political  reform;  my  object  is  moral  and  intellectual  reform,  which 
will  be  sure  enough  to  work  out  political  reform  in  the  best  way,  and  my 
writing  on  politics  would  have  for  its  end,  not  the  forwarding  any  political 
measure,  but  the  so  purifying,  enlightening,  sobering,  and^in  one  word 
Christianizing  men's  notions  and  feelings  on  political  matters  that  from 
the  improved  tree  may  come  hereafter  a  better  fruit.  With  any  lower  views 
or  for  the  sake  of  furthering  any  political  measures,  or  advocating  a  political 
party,  I  should  think  it  wrong  to  engage  in  the  Register  at  all,  and  certainly 
would  not  risk  my  money  in  the  attempt  to  set  it  afloat. 


XXX.       TO    HIS    SISTER    SUSANNAH    ARNOLD. 

Rugby,  April,  1831. 

I  should  like  you  to  see 's  letter  to  me  about  the  Re- 
gister ;  the  letter  of  a  really  good  man  and  a  thinking  one,  and  a  really  lib- 
eral one.     I  wrote  to  him  to  thank  him,  and  got  the  kindest  of  answers  in 
return,  in  which  he  concludes  by  saying  that  he  cannot  help  taking  in  the 
Register  after  all  when  it  does  make  its  appearance.     Those  are  the  men 
whom  I  would  do  every  thing  in  my  power  to  conciliate,  because  I  honour 
and  esteem  them  ;  but  for  the  common  Church  and  Kino-  Tories  I  never 
would  go  one  hair's  breadth  to  please  them';  for  their  notions,  principles 
they  are  not,  require  at  all  times  and  at  all  places  to  be  denounced  as  found- 
ed on  ignorance  and  selfishness,  and  as  having  been  invariably  opposed  to 
truth  and  goodness  from  the  days  of  the  Jewish  aristocracy  downwards.     It 
is  therefore  nothing  but  what  I  should  most  wish,  that  such  opinions  and 
mine  should  be  diametrically  opposite.  .  .    .    .    .     Not  that  I  anticipate  with 

much  confidence  any  great  benefits  to  result  from  the  Reform  Bill ;  but  the 
truth  is,  that  we  are  arrived  at  one  of  those  periods  in  the  prooress'  of  soci- 
ety when  the  constitution  naturally  undergoes  a  change,  jusfas  it  did  two 
centuries  ago.  It  was  impossible  then  for  the  king  to  keep  down  the  higher 
part  of  the  middle  classes ;  it  is  impossible  now  to  keep  down  the  middle 
and  lower  parts  of  them.  All  that  resistance  to  these  natural  chano-es  can 
effect  is  to  derange  their  operation,  and  make  them  act  violently  and  mis- 
chievously, instead  of  healthfully  or  at  least  harmlessly.  The  old  state  of 
things  has  gone  past  recall,  and  all  the  efforts  of  all  the  Tories  cannot  save 
it,  but  they  may  by  their  folly,  as  they  did  in  France,  get  us  a  wild  democ- 
racy, or  a  military  despotism  in  the  room  of  it,  instead  of  letting  it  change 

1   The  proposal  alluded  to  was  the  taxation  of  the  funds  distinctly  from  other  property 
as  in  the  plan  proposed  by  Lord  Althorp's  first  budget, 

13 


IQQ  LIFE  OP   DR.  ARNOLD. 

quietly  into  what  is  merely  a  new  modification  of  the  old  state.  One  would 
think  that  people  who  talk  against  change  were  literally  as  well  as  meta- 
phorically blind,  and  really  did  not  see  that  every  thing  in  themselves  and 
around  them  is  changing  every  hour  by  the  necessary  laws  of  its  being. 


XXXI.      TO    W.    W.    HULL,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  May  2,  1831. 

Every  selfish  motive  would  deter  me  from  the  Register  ; 

it  will  be  a  pecuniary  loss,  it  will  bring  me  no  credit,  but  much  trouble  and 
probably  some  abuse,  and  some  of  my  dearest  friends  look  on  it  not  only 
coldly  but  with  aversion.  But  I  do  think  it  a  most  solemn  duty  to  make  the 
attempt.  I  feel  our  weakness,  and  that  what  I  can  hope  to  do  is  very  little, 
and  perhaps  will  be  nothing  ;  but  if  I  can  but  excite  others  to  follow  the  same 
plan,  I  shall  rejoice  to  be  superseded  by  them  if  they  will  do  the  thing  more 
effectually.  I  have  this  morning  been  over  to  Coventry  to  make  the  required 
affidavit  of  Proprietorship,  and  to  sign  the  bond  for  the  payment  of  the  ad- 
vertisement duty.  And  No.  1  will  really  appear  on  Saturday  with  an  open- 
ing Article  of  mine,  and  a  religious  one.  The  difficulty  of  the  undertaking 
is  indeed  most  serious ;  all  the  Tories  turn  from  me  as  a  Liberal,  whilst  the 
strong  Reformers  think  me  timid  and  half  corrupt,  because  I  will  not  go 
alono-'with  them  or  turn  the  Register  into  a  new  "  Examiner  "  or  "  Ballot." 
So  that  I  dare  say  my  fate  will  be  that  of  tw  fie'aa  roiv  noliTwv  from  the  days 
of  Thucydides  downwards. 

I  wrote  to  Parker  immediately  on  the  receipt  of  your  letter,  proposing  to 
him  either  to  give  up  [Thucydides]  altogether  except  the  Appendices,  put- 
ting all  my  materials  of  every  sort  into  his  hands  freely  to  dispose  of,  or  else 
to  share  with  him  all  the  expenses  of  the  next  volume,  and  to  refund  at  once 
what  I  have  already  received  for  the  first.  I  have  told  him  often  before, 
and  now  have  told  him  again,  that  I  cannot  do  it  quickly ;  and  that  I  never 
meant  or  would  consent  to  devote  to  it  every  spare  moment  of  my  time,  so 
as  to  leave  myself  no  liberty  for  any  other  writing.  I  have  written  nothing 
for  two  years  but  Thucydides  and  Sermons  for  the  boys ;  but  though  I  will 
readily  give  up  writing  merely  for  my  own  amusement,  or  fame,  or  profit,  I 
cannot  abandon  what  I  think  is  a  positive  duty,  such  as  the  attempting  at 
least  the  Register.  Parker  wrote  immediately  a  very  kind  letter,  begging 
me  to  continue  the  Editorship  as  at  present,  and  stating  in  express  words 
"  that  though  advantage  might  arise  from  the  early  completion  of  the  book, 
no  injury  whatever  has  been  sustained  by  him,  or  is  likely  to  be  sustained." 

I  am  proprietor  of  the  Register,  and  will  be  answerable  for  it  up  to  a  cer- 
tain point ;  but  I  cannot  pretend  to  say  that  I  shall  see  every  thing  that  is  in- 
serted in  it,  or  that  I  should  expunge  every  thing  with  which  I  did  not 
aoree,  although  I  certainly  should,  if  the  disagreement  were  great,  or  the 
opinions  so  differing  seemed  to  me  likely  to  be  mischievous.  I  have  no  wish 
to  conceal  any  thing  about  it,  and  if  I  cannot  control  it  to  my  mind,  or  find 
the  thing  to  be  a  failure,  I  will  instantly  withdraw  it.     Sed  Dii  meliora  piis. 


XXXII.      TO    THE    ARCHBISHOP    OF    DUBLIN. 

Rugby,  Juno  11,  1831. 

I  confess  that  your  last  letter  a  good  deal  grieved  me,  not  at  all  personal- 
ly but  as  it  seemed  to  me  to  give  the  death  blow  to  my  hopes  of  finding  co- 
operators  for  the  Register.  That  very  article  upon  the  Tories  has  been  ob- 
jected to  as  being  too  favourable  to  them,  so  what  is  a  man  to  do  ?  You 
will  see  by  No.  5,  that  I  do  not  think  the  Bill  perfect,  but  still  I  like  it  as  far 
as  it  goes  and  especially  in  its  disfranchisement  clauses.    But  my  great  ob- 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


187 


ject  in  the  Register  was  to  enlighten  the  poor  generally  in  the  best  sense  of 
the  term ;  as  it  is,  no  one  joins  me,  and  of  course  my  nephew  and  I  cannot 
do  it  alone.  "  What  is  everybody's  business  is  nobody's,"  is  true  from  the 
days  of  the  Peloponnesian  confederacy  downwards.  Unless  a  great  change 
in  our  prospects  takes  place,  Register  will  therefore  undergo  transmigration 
when  the  holidays  begin ;  whether  into  a  set  of  penny  papers,  or  into  a 
monthly  magazine  I  cannot  tell.  But  I  cannot  sit  still  without  trying  to  do 
something  for  a  state  of  things  which  often  and  often,  far  oftener  I  believe 
than  any  one  knows  of,  comes  with  a  real  pang  of  sorrow  to  trouble  my 
own  private  happiness.  I  know  it  is  good  to  have  these  sobering  reminders, 
and  it  may  be  my  impatience,  that  I  do  not  take  them  merely  as  awakeners 
and  reminders  to  myself.  Still  ought  we  not  to  fight  against  evil,  and  is  not 
moral  ignorance,  such  as  now  so  sadly  prevails,  one  of  the  worst  kinds  of 
evil? 


XXXIII.      TO    W.    TOOKE,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  June  18,  1831. 

I  must  take  the  earliest  opportunity  of  thanking  you  most  heartily  for 
your  active  kindness  towards  me,  to  which  I  am  indebted  for  the  most  grati- 
fying offer1  announced  to  me  in  your  letter  of  yesterday.  I  feel  doubly 
obliged  to  you  both  for  your  good  opinion  of  me,  and  for  your  kind  recollec- 
tion of  me I  trust  that  you  will  not  think  me  the  less  grateful 

to  you,  because  I  felt  that  I  ought  not  to  avail  myself  of  the  Chancellor's 
offer.  Engaged  as  I  am  here,  I  could  not  reside  upon  a  living,  and  I  would 
not  be  satisfied  to  hold  one  without  residence.  I  have  always  strenuously 
maintained  that  the  elergy  engaged  in  education  should  have  nothing  to  do 
with  church  benefices,  and  I  should  be  very  unwilling  to  let  my  own  prac- 
tice contradict  what  I  really  believe  to  be  a  very  wholesome  doctrine.  But 
I  am  sure  that  I  value  the  offer  quite  as  much,  and  feel  as  heartily  obliged 
both  to  the  Chancellor  and  you  for  it,  as  if  I  had  accepted  it. 

In  this  day's  number  of  the  Register  there  is  a  letter 

on  the  "  Cottage  Evenings,"  condemning  very  decidedly  their  unchristian 
tone.  It  is  not  written  by  me,  but  I  confess  that  I  heartily  agree  with  it. 
You  know  of  old  how  earnestly  I  have  wished  to  join  your  Useful  Know- 
ledge Society ;  and  how  heartily  on  many  points  1  sympathize  with  them. 
This  very  work,  the  "  Cottage  Evenings,"  might  be  made  every  thing  that 
I  wish,  if  it  were  but  decidedly  Christian.  I  delight  in  its  plain  and  sensi- 
ble tone,  and  it  might  be  made  the  channel  of  all  sorts  of  information,  use- 
ful and  entertaining ;  but,  as  it  is,  so  far  from  co-operating  with  it,  I  must 
feel  utterly  adverse  to  it.  To  enter  into  the  deeper  matters  of  conduct  and 
principle,  to  talk  of  our  main  hopes  and  fears,  and'  yet  not  to  speak  of 
Christ,  is  absolutely,  to  my  mind,  to  circulate  poison.  In  such  points  as  this, 
"  He  that  is  not  with  us  is  against  us." 

It  has  occurred  to  me  that  the  circumstance  of  some  of  the  principal 
members  of  the  Useful  Knowledge  Society  being  now  in  the  government, 
is  in  itself  a  strong  reason  why  the  Society  should  take  a  more  decided  tone 
on  matters  of  religion.  Undoubtedly  their  support  of  that  Society,  as  it 
now  stands,  is  a  matter  of  deep  grief  and  disapprobation  to  a  large  pro- 
portion of  the  best  men  in  this  kingdom,  while  it  encourages  the  hopes  of 
some  of  the  very  worst.  And  it  would  be,  I  do  verily  think,  one  of  the 
greatest  possible  public  blessings,  if,  as  they  are  honest,  fearless,  and  en- 
lightened against  political  corruption,  and,  as  I  hope  they  will  prove,  against 
ecclesiastieal  abuses  also,  so  they  would  be  no  less  honest  and  fearless  and 
truly  wise  in  labouring  to  Christianize  the  people,  in  spite  of  the  sneers  and 

1  Viz.,  of  a  stall  in  Bristol  Cathedral,  with  a  living  attached  to  it — offered  to  him  by 
Lord  Brougham. 


188  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

opposition  of  those  who  understand  full  well  that,  if  men  do1  not  worship 
God,  they  at  once  by  that  very  omission  worship  most  surely  the  power 
of  evil. 

You  will  smile  at  my  earnestness  or  simplicity ;  but  it  does  strongly  ex- 
cite me  to  see  so  great  an  engine  as  your  Society,  and  one  whose  efforts  I 
would  so  gladly  co-operate  with,  and  which  could  effect  so  easily  what  I 
alone  am  vainly  struggling  at,  to  see  this  engine  at  the  very  least  neutral- 
izing its  power  of  doing  good,  and,  I  fear,  doing  in  some  respects  absolute 
evil.  On  the  other  side,  the  Tories  would  not  have  my  assistance  in  reli- 
gious matters,  because  they  so  disapprove  of  my  politics  ;  and  in  the  mean 
time  the  people,  in  this  hour  of  their  utmost  need,  get  either  the  cold  deism 
of  the  Cottage  Evenings,  or  the  folly  of  the  Cottager's  Monthly  Visitor. 
Would  the  Committee  accept  my  assistance  for  those  "  Cottage  Evenings?" 
I  would  give  a  larger  sum  than  I  should  be  thought  sane  to  mention,  if  I 
might  but  once  see  this  great  point  effected. 2 


XXKIV.      TO    MRS.    FLETCHER. 

(After  the  death  of  her  Son.) 

Rugby,  August,  1831. 

I  know  that  you  are  rich  in  friends,  and  it  seems  like  pre- 
sumption in  me  to  say  it ;  but  I  entreat  you  earnestly  to  remember  that  Ma- 
ry and  myself  regard  you  and  yours  with  such  cordial  respect  and  affection, 
that  it  would  give  us  real  pleasure,  if  either  now  or  hereafter  we  can  be  of 
any  use  whatever  in  any  arrangements  to  be  made  for  your  grandchildren. 
I  feel  that  it  would  be  a  delight  to  me  to  be  of  any  service  to  fatherless  chil- 
dren, contemplating,  as  I  often  do,  the  possibility  of  myself  or  their  dear 
mother  being  taken  away  from  our  own  little  ones.  And  I  feel  it  the  more7 
because  I  confess  that  I  think  evil  days  are  threatening,  insomuch  that, 
whenever  I  hear  of  the  death  of  any  one  that  is  dear  to  me,  there  mixes 
with  my  sense  of  my  own  loss  a  sort  of  joy  that  he  is  safe  from  the  evil  to 
come.  Still  more  strong  is  my  desire  that  all  Christ's  servants  who  are  left 
should  draw  nearer  every  day  to  him,  and  to  one  another,  in  every  feeling 
and  every  work  of  love. 


XXXV.      TO   REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Skipton,  July  11,  1831. 

.  .  .  .  The  Register  is  now  dead,  to  revive  however  in  another  shape  ; 
but  I  could'not  afford  at  once  to  pay  all,  and  to  write  all,  and  my  nephew's 
own  business  hindered  him  from  attending  to  it  sufficiently,  and  it  thus  de- 
volved on  the  mere  publisher,  who  put  in  things  of  which  I  utterly  disap- 
proved. But  the  thing  has  excited  attention  in  some  quarters,  just  as  I 
wished ;  all  the  articles  on  the  labourers  were  copied  at  length  into  one  of 
the  Sheffield  papers,  and,  when  the  Register  died,  the  Sheffield  proprietor 
wrote  up  to  our  editor,  wishing  to  engage  the  writer  of  those  articles  to  con- 

1  "  There  is  something  to  me  almost  awful,"  he  used  to  say,  speaking  of  Lord  Byron's 
Cain,  "  in  meeting  suddenly  in  the  works  of  such  a  man,  so  great  and  solemn  a  truth  as 
is  expressed  in  that  speech  of  Lucifer,  '  He  who  bows  not  to  God  hath  bowed  to  me.' " 

2  From  a  later  letter  to  the  same.—"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  I  was  delighted  by 
the  conclusion  of  the  article  on  Mirabeau,  in  the  Penny  Magazine  of  May  12.  The 
article  is  a  specimen  of  what  I  wished  to  see,  but  done  far  better  than  I  could  do  it.  I 
never  wanted  articles  on  religious  subjects  half  so  much  as  articles  on  common  subjects 
written  with  a  decidedly  Christian  tone.  History  and  Biography  are  far  better  vehicles 
of  good,  I  think,  than  any  direct  comments  on  Scripture,  or  essays  on  Evidences." 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  [go, 

tinue  them  for  his  own  paper.  By  a  strange  coincidence  I  happened  to 
walk  into  the  office  of  this  very  paper,  at  Sheffield,  to  look  at  the  division  on 
the  Reform  Bill,  knowing  nothing  of  the  application  made  to  our  editor  in 
town.  I  saw  the  long  quotation  from  the  Register,  and  as  the  proprietor 
of  the  paper  happened  to  be  in  the  shop,  I  .talked  to  him  about  it,  and  finally 
told  him  who  I  was,  and  what  were  my  objects  in  the  Register.  He  spoke 
of  those  articles  on  the  labourers  being  read  with  great  interest  by  the 
mechanics  and  people  of  that  class,  and  I  have  promised  to  send  him  a  letter 
or  two  in  continuation. 


XXXVI.       TO    THE    ARCHBISHOP    OF    DUBLIN. 


August  12,  1831. 


Touching  the  Magazine,  I  think  it  StvTignv  nlovv  in  compa- 
rison with  a  weekly  paper  ;  but  ttXi'ov  ri[uav  ndi'toq.  1  will  join  in  it  gladly, 
and,  if  required,  try  to  undertake  even  the  editorship,  only  let  something  be 
done.  I  found  all  the  articles  about  the  labourers  in  my  Register  had  been 
copied  into  the  Sheffield  Courant,  and  the  proprietor  told  me  that  they  had 
excited  some  interest.  Thus  even  a  little  seed  may  be  scattered  about,  and 
produce  more  effect  than  we  might  calculate  on  ;  by  all  means  let  us  sow 
while  we  can. 

What  do  Mayo  and  you  say  to  the  Cholera  1  Have  you  read  the  ac- 
counts of  the  great  fifty  years'  pestilence  of  the  6th  century,  or  of  that  of  the 
14th,  both  of  which  seem  gradually  to  have  travelled  like  the  cholera  ?  How 
much  we  have  to  learn  about  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  and  the  causes 
that  affect  it.  It  seems  to  me  that  there  must  be  a  "  morbus  cceli,"  which  at 
particular  periods  favours  the  spread  of  disorders,  and  thus,  although  the 
cholera  is  contagious,  yet  it  also  originates  in  certain  constitutions  under  a 
certain  state  of  atmosphere,  and  then  is  communicated  by  contagion  to  many 
who  would  not  have  originated  it  themselves  ;  while  many  again  are  so 
antipathetic  to  it,  that  neither  contagion  nor  infection  will  give  it  them. 
Agathias  says  that  the  old  Persian  and  Egyptian  philosophers  held  that 
there  were  certain  periodical  revolutions  of  time,  fraught  with  evil  to  the 
human  race,  and  others,  during  which  they  were  exempt  from  the  worst  sort 
of  visitations.  This  is  mysticism;  yet  from  Thucydides  downwards,  men 
have  remarked  that  these  visitations  do  not  come  single  ;  and  although  the 
connexion  between  plague  and  famine  is  obvious,  yet  that  between  plague 
and  volcanic  phenomena  is  not  so  ;  and  yet  these  have  been  coincident  in 
the  most  famous  instances  of  long  travelling  pestilences  hitherto  on  record. 
Nor  is  there  much  natural  connexion  between  the  ravages  of  epidemic  dis- 
ease and  a  moral  and  political  crisis  in  men's  minds,  such  as  we  now  seem 
to  be  witnessing. 


XXXVII.       TO    REV.    F.    C.    BLACKSTONE. 

(In  answer  to  a  question  about  Jrvingism  at  Port  Glasgow.) 

Rugby,  Oct.  25,  1831. 

.  .  .  .  If  the  thing  be  real  I  should  take  it  merely  as  a  sign  of  the  com- 
ing of  the  day  of  the  Lord — the  only  use,  as  far  as  I  can  make  out,  that  ever 
was  derived  from  the  gift  of  tongues.  I  do  not  see  that  it  was  ever  made  a 
vehicle  of  instruction,  or  ever  superseded  the  study  of  tongues,  but  that  it 
was  merely  a  sign  of  the  power  of  God,  a  man  being  for  the  time  transformed 
into  a  mere  instrument  to  utter  sounds  which  he  himself  understood  not.  .  .  . 
However,  whether  this  be  a  real  sign  or  no,  I  believe  that  "  the  day  of  the 


190  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

Lord"  is  coming,  i.  e.  the  termination  of  one  of  the  great  aiojvic;  of  the  hu- 
man race ;  whether  the  final  one  of  all  or  not,  that  I  believe  no  created 
being  knows  or  can  know.  The  termination  of  the  Jewish  aiiov  in  the  first 
century,  and  of  the  Roman  cuwv  in  the  fifth  and  sixth,  were  each  marked  by 
the  same  concurrence  of  calamities,  wars,  tumults,  pestilences,  earthquakes, 
«fec,  all  marking  the  time  of  one  of  God's  peculiar  seasons  of  visitation.1 
And  society  in  Europe  seems  going  on  fast  for  a  similar  revolution,  out  of 
which  Christ's  Church  will  emerge  in  a  new  position,  purified,  I  trust,  and 
strengthened  by  the  destruction  of  various  earthly  and  evil  mixtures  that 
have  corrupted  it.  But  I  have  not  the  slightest  expectation  of  what  is  com- 
monly meant  by  the  Millennium,  and  I  wonder  more  and  more  that  any  one 
can  so  understand  Scripture  as  to  look  for  it.  As  for  the  signs  of  the  times 
in  England,  I  look  nowhere  with  confidence  :  politically  speaking,  I  respect 
and  admire  the  present  government.  The  ministry,  I  sincerely  believe, 
would  preserve  all  our  institutions  by  reforming  them  ;  but  still  I  cannot 
pretend  to  say  that  they  would  do  this  on  the  highest  principles,  or  that  they 
keep  their  eye  on  the  true  polar  star,  how  skilfully  soever  they  may  observe 
their  charts  and  work  their  vessel.     But  even  in  this  I  think  them  far  better 

than  the  Tories We  talk,  as  much  as  we  dare  talk  of  any  thing 

two  months  distant,  of  going  to  the  Lakes  in  the  winter,  that  I  may  get  on 
in  peace  with  Thucydides,  and  enjoy  the  mountains  besides. 


XXXVIII.      TO    W.  W.  HULL,  ESQ. 

Rugby,  October  26,  1831. 

....  I  spear  daily,  as  the  Lydians  used  to  play  in  the  famine,  that  I  may 
at  least  steal  some  portion  of  the  day  from  thought.  My  family,  the  school, 
and,  thank  God,  the  town  also,  are  all  full  of  restful  and  delightful  thoughts 
and  images.  All  there  is  but  the  scene  of  wholesome  and  happy  labour, 
and  has  much  to  refresh  the  inward  man,  with  as  little  to  disturb  him  as  this 
earth,  since  Paradise,  could,  I  believe,  ever  present  to  any  one  individual. 
But  my  sense  of  the  evils  of  the  times,  and  to  what  prospects  I  am  bringing 
up  my  children,  is  overwhelmingly  bitter.  All  in  the  moral  and  physical 
world  appears  so  exactly  to  announce  the  coming  of  the  "  great  day  of  the 
Lord," — i.  e.,  a  period  of  fearful  visitation  to  terminate  the  existing  state  of 
things,  whether  to  terminate  the  whole  existence  of  the  human  race,  neither 
man  nor  angel  knows, — that  no  entireness  of  private  happiness  can  possibly 
close  my  mind  against  the  sense  of  it.  Mean  time  it  makes  me  very  anxious 
to  do  what  work  I  can,  more  especially  as  I  think  the  prospect  of  the  cholera 
makes  life  even  more  than  ordinarily  uncertain ;  and  I  am  inclined  to  think, 
from  my  own  peculiar  constitution,  that  I  should  be  very  likely  to  be  at- 
tacked by  it 

J  believe  I  told  you  that  I  am  preparing  for  the  press  a  new  volume  of 
sermons,  and  I  wish  a  small  book  on  the  Evidences'  to  accompany  them  ;  not 
a  book  to  get  up  like  Paley,  but  taking  the  real  way  in  which  the  difficulties 
present  themselves,  half  moral,  half  intellectual,  to  the  mind  of  an  intelligent 
and  well  educated  young  man ;  a  book  which,  by  God's  blessing  may  be  a 
real  stay  in  that  state  of  mind  when  neither  an  address  to  the  intellect  alone, 
nor  one  to  the  moral  feelings,  is  alone  most  likely  to  answer.  And  I  wish 
to  make  the  main  point  not  the  truth  of  Christianity  per  se,  as  a  theorem  to 

1  For  the  same  belief  in  the  connexion  of  physical  with  moral  convulsions,  see  Nie- 
buhr,  Lebens-nach-richten,  ii.  p.  167.  It  may  be  as  well  to  add,  that  the  view  above 
expressed  of  the  apostolical  gift  of  tongues,  was  founded  on  a  deliberate  study  of  the 
passages  which  relate  to  it,  especially  1   Cor.  xiv.  14.  13.  28.  21. 

2  This  he  partially  accomplished  in  the  17th  Sermon  in  the  second  volume,  and  the 
18th  and  19th  in  the  third.     The  work  itself  was  begun,  but  never  finished. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  191 

be  proved,  but  the  wisdom  of  our  abiding  by  it,  and  whether  there  is  any- 
thing else  for  it  but  the  life  of  beast  or  of  devil.  I  should  like  to  do  this  if  I 
could  before  I  die ;  for  I  think  that  times  are  coming  when  the  Devil  will 
fight  his  best  in  good  earnest.  I  must  not  write  any  more,  for  work  rises  on 
every  side  open  mouthed  upon  me. 


XXXIX.      TO    REV.   JULIUS    HARE. 

Nov.  9,1831. 

(After  thanking  him  for  the  first  number  of  the  Philological  Museum,  and 
wishing  him  success.)  For  myself,  I  am  afraid  Thucydides  will  have  shown 
you  that  I  am  a  very  poor  philologist,  and  my  knowledge  is  too  superficial 
on  almost  every  point  to  enable  me  to  produce  any  thing  worth  your  having  ; 
and  to  say  the  truth,  every  moment  of  spare  time  I  wish  to  devote  to  writing 
on  Religion  or  7inlitiy.r\.  I  use  the  Greek  word,  because  "  politics"  is  com- 
monly taken  in  a  much  baser  sense.  I  know  I  can  do  but  little,  perhaps 
nothing,  but  the  "  Liberavi  animam  meam"  is  a  consolation;  and  I  would 
fain  not  see  every  thing  good  and  beautiful  sink  in  ruin,  without  making  a 
single  effort  to  lessen  the  mischief.  Since  the  death  of  the  Register,  I  am 
writing  constantly  in  one  of  the  Sheffield  papers,  the  proprietor  of  which  I 
earnestly  believe  sincerely  wishes  to  do  good. 

I  heartily  sympathize  with  the  feeling  of  your  concluding  paragraph — 
in  your  note  I  mean — but  who  dare  look  forward  now  to  any  thing  ? 


XL.       TO    THE    ARCHBISHOP    OF    DUBLIN. 

Rugby,  November    8,1831. 

You  must  not  go  to  Ireland  without  a  few  lines  from  me.  I  cannot  ye 
be  reconciled  to  your  being  on  the  other  side  of  St.  George's  Channel,  or  to 
thinking  of  Oxford  as  being  without  you.  I^do  not  know  where  to  look  for  the 
Mezentius  who  should  L<  succedatpugnse,"  when  Turnus  is  gone  away.  My 
great  ignorance  about  Ireland  is  also  very  inconvenient  to  me  in  thinking 
about  your  future  operations,  as  I  do  not  know  what  most  wants  mending 
there,  or  what  is  likely  to  be  the  disposition  to  mend  it  in  those  with  whom 
you  will  be  surrounded.  But  you  must  not  go  out  with  words  of  evil  omen ; 
and,  indeed,  I  do  anticipate  much  happiness  for  you,  seeing  that  happiness 
consists,  according  to  our  dear  old  friend,  iv  h't^yiCa,  and  of  that  you  are 
likely  to  have  enough 

I  am  a  coward  about  schools,  and  yet  I  have  not  the  satisfaction  of  being 
a  coward  y.ara  nQoafyioiv ;  for  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  the  trials  of  a 
school  are  useful  to  a  boy's  after  character,  and  thus  I  dread  not  to  expose 
my  boys  to  it ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  immediate  effect  of  it  is  so  ugly, 
that,  like  washing  one's  hands  with  earth,  one  shrinks  from  dirting  them  so 

grievously  in  the  first  stage  of  the   process I  cannot  get  over  my 

sense  of  the  fearful  state  of  public  affairs : — is  it  clean  hopeless  that  the 

Church  will  come  forward  and  crave  to  be  allowed  to  reform  itself? 

I  can  have  no  confidence  in  what  would  be  in  men  like ,  but  a  death- 
bed repentance.  It  can  only  be  done  effectually  by  those  who  have  not, 
through  many  a  year  of  fair  weather,  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  voice  of 
reform,  and  will  now  be  thought  only  to  obey  it,  because  they  cannot  help  it. 
If  I  were  indeed  a  Radical,  and  hated  the  Church,  and  longed  for  a  democ- 
racy, I  should  be  jolly  enough,  and  think  that  all  was  plain  sailing ;  but  as 
it  is,  I  verily  think  that  neither  my  spirits  nor  my  occupation,  nor  even  spear- 
ing itself,  will  enable  me  to  be  cheerful  under  such  an  awful  prospect  of 
public  evils. 


192  LIFE  0F   DR-   ARNOLD. 


XLI.      TO    W.    W.    HULL,    ESQ.. 

Knutsfoi'J,  Duccmber  16,  1331. 

I  want  to  write  an  Essay  on  the  true  use  of  Scripture  ; 

i.  e.  that  it  is  a  direct  guide  so  far  forth  as  we  are  circumstanced  exactly 
like  the  persons  to  whom  it  was  originally  addressed ;  that  where  the  differ- 
ences are  great,  there  it  is  a  guide  by  analogy ;  i.  e.  if  so  and  so  was  the 
duty  of  men  so  circumstanced,  ergo,  so  and  so  is  the  duty  of  men  circum- 
stanced thus  otherwise ;  and  that  thus  we  shall  keep  the  spirit  of  God's  rev- 
elation even  whilst  utterly  disregarding  the  letter,  when  the  circumstances 
are  totally  different.  E.  g.  the  second  commandment  is  in  the  letter  utterly 
done  away  with  by  the  fact  of  the  Incarnation.  To  refuse,  then,  the  benefit 
which  we  might  derive  from  the  frequent  use  of  the  crucifix  under  pretence 
of  the  Second  Commandment  is  a  folly,  because  God  has  sanctioned  one 
conceivable  similitude  of  himself,  when  He  declared  Himself  in  the  person 
of  Christ.  The  spirit  of  the  commandment  not  to  think  unworthily  of  the 
Divine  nature,  nor  to  lower  it  after  our  own  devices,  is  violated  by  all  un- 
scriptural  notions  of  God's  attributes  and  dealings  with  men,  such  as  we  see 
and  hear  broached  daily,  and,  though  in  a  less  important  degree,  by  those 
representations  of  God  the  Father  which  one  sees  in  Catholic  pictures,  and 
by  what  Whately  calls. peristerolatry,  the  foolish  way  in  which  people  allow 
themselves  to  talk  about  God  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  of  a  dove.  The  applica- 
tions of  this  principle  are  very  numerous,  and  embrace.  I  think,  all  the 
principal  errors  both  of  the  High  Church  and  of  the  Evangelical  party. 


XLII.      TO    REV.    G.    CORNISH. 

RYDAL  !  !  !  December  23,  1831. 

We  are  actually  here  and  going  up  Nabb's  Scar  presently,  if  the  morn- 
ing holds  clear :  the  said  Nabb's  Scar  being  the  mountain  at  whose  foot  our 
house  stands ;  but  you  must  not  suppose  that  we  are  at  Rydal  Hall ;  it  is 
only  a  house  by  the  road-side,  just  at  the  corner  of  the  lane  that  leads  up 
to  Wordsworth's  house,  with  the  road  on  one  side  of  the  garden,  and  the 
Rotha  on  the  other,  which  goes  brawling  away  under  our  windows  with  its 
perpetual  music.  The  higher  mountains  that  bound  our  view  are  all  snow- 
capped, but  it  is  all  snug,  and  warm  and  green  in  the  valley. — nowhere  on 
earth  have  I  ever  seen  a  spot  of  more  perfect  and  enjoyable  beauty,  with 
not  a  single  object  out  of  tune  with  it,  look  which  way  1  will.  In  another 
cottage,  about  twenty  yards  from  US)  Capt.  Hamilton,  the  author  of  Cyril 
Thornton,  has  taken  up  his  abode  lor  the  winter ;  close  above  us  are  the 
Wordsworth's  ;  and  we  are  in  our  own  house  a  party  of  fifteen  souls,  so  that 
we  are  in  no  danger  of  being  dull.  And  I  think  it  would  be  hard  to  say 
which  of  us  all  enjoys  our  quarters  the  most.  We  arrived  here  on  Monday, 
and  hope  to  stay  here  about  a  month  from  the  present  time. 

It  is  indeed  a  long  time  since  I  have  written  to  you,  and  these  are  times 
to  furnish  ample  matter  to  write  or  to  talk  about.  How  earnestly  do  I  wish 
that  I  could  see  you  ;  it  is  the  only  ungratified  wish  as  to  earthly  happiness 
of  my  most  happy  life,  that   I  am  so  parted  from  so  many  of  my  dearest 

friends [After  speaking  of  objections  which  he  had  heard  made  to 

the  appointment  of  Dr.  Whately  to  the  Archbishopric  of  Dublin.]  Now  I 
am  sure  that  in  point  of  real  essential  holiness,  so  far  as  man  can  judge  of 
man,  there  does  not  live  a  truer  Christian  than  Whately;  and  it  does  grieve 
me  most  deeply  to  hear  people  speak  of  him  as  of  a  dangerous  and  latitu- 
dinarian  character,  because  in  him  the  intellectual  part  of  his  nature  keeps 
pace  with  the  spiritual — instead  of  being  left,  as  the  Evangelicals  leave  it, 
a  fallow  field  for  all  unsightly  creeds  to  flourish  in.     He  is  a  truly  great  man 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  193 

— in  the  highest  sense  of  the  word, — and  if  the  safety  and  welfare  of  the 
Protestant  Church  in  Ireland  depend  in  any  degree  on  human  instruments, 
none  could  be  found,  I  verily  believe,  in  the  whole  empire,  so  likely  to  main- 
tain it I  am  again  publishing  Sermons,  with  an  essay  at  the  tail,  on 

the  Interpretation  of  Scripture,  embodying  things  that  I  have  been  thinking 
over  for  the  last  six  or  seven  years ;  and  which  I  hope  will  be  useful  to  a 
class  whose  spiritual  wants  I  am  apt  to  think  are  sadly  provided  for — young- 
men  bringing  up  for  other  professions  than  the  church,  who  share  deeply  in 
the  intellectual  activity  of  the  day,  and  require  better  satisfaction  to  the 
working  of  their  minds  than  I  think  is  commonly  given  them. 


XLIII.      TO    THE    SAME. 

Rugby,  February  15,  1832. 

A  letter  from  Tucker  has  this  morning  informed  me  of  the  heavy  trial 
which  has  fallen  upon  you.  I  write,  because  I  would  wish  to  hear  from 
you  under  similar  circumstances,  and  because  it  is  unnatural  not  to  assure 
you  at  such  a  moment  how  dearly  your  friends  at  Rugby  love  you  and  your 
dear  wife,  and  how  truly  they  sympathize  with  your  sorrow.  Tucker's  let- 
ter leaves  us  anxious  both  for  your  wife  and  for  little  Robert — especially  for 
the  latter ;  it  would  be  a  great  comfort  to  hear  favourable  accounts  of  them, 
if  you  could  give  them.  I  will  not  add  one  word  more.  May  God  strengthen 
and  support  you,  my  dear  friend,  and  bless  all  His  dispensations  towards 
us  both,  through  Jesus  Christ. 


XLIV.       TO    THE    LADY    FRANCIS    EGERTON. 
(On  the  subject  of  the  conversion  of  a  person  witli  atheistical  opinions.) 

Rugby,  February  15,  1832. 

The  subject  of  the  letter  which  I  have  had  the  honour  of  receiving  from 
you  has  so  high  a  claim  upon  the  best  exertions  of  every  Christian,  that  I 
can  only  regret  my  inability  to  do  it  justice.  But  in  cases  of  moral  or  intel- 
lectual disorder,  no  less  than  of  bodily,  it  is  difficult  to  prescribe  at  a  dis- 
tance ;  so  much  must  always  depend  on  the  particular  constitution  of  the 
individual,  and  the  peculiarly  weak  points  in  his  character.  Nor  am  I  quite 
sure  whether  the  case  you  mention  is  one  of  absolute  Atheism,  or  of  Epi- 
curism ;  that  is  to  say,  whether  it  be  a  denial  of  God's  existence  altogether, 
or  only  of  his  moral  government,  the  latter  doctrine  being,  I  believe,  a 
favourite  resource  with  those  who  cannot  evade  the  force  of  the  evidences 
of  design  in  the  works  of  Creation,  and  yet  cannot  bear  to  entertain  that 
strong  and  constant  sense  of  personal  responsibility,  which  follows  from  the 
notion  of  God  as  a  moral  governor.  At  any  rate,  the  great  thing  to  ascer- 
tain is,  what  led  to  his  present  state  of  opinions ;  for  the  actual  arguments, 
by  which  he  would  now  justify  them,  are  of  much  less  consequence.  The 
proofs  of  an  intelligent  and  benevolent  Creator  are  given  in  my  opinion 
more  clearly  in  Paley's  Natural  Theology,  than  in  any  other  book  that  I 
know,  and  the  necessity  of  faith  arising  from  the  absurdity  of  skepticism  on 
the  one  hand,  and  of  dogmatism  on  the  other,  is  shown  with  great  power 
and  eloquence  in  the  first  article  in  the  second  part  of  Pascal's  "  Pensees," 
a  book  of  which  there  is  an  English  translation  by  no  means  difficult  to 
meet  with.  In  many  cases  the  real  origin  of  a  man's  irreligion  is,  I  believe, 
political.  He  dislikes  the  actual  state  of  society,  hates  the  Church  as  con- 
nected with  it,  and,  in  his  notions,  supporting  its  abuses,  and  then  hates 
Christianity  because  it  is  taught  by  the  Church.  Another  case  is,  when  a 
man's  religious  practice  has  degenerated,  when  he  has  been  less  watchful  of 
himself  and  less  constant  and  earnest  in  his  devotions.     The  consequence 


194  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

is,  that  his  impression  of  God's  real  existence,  which  is  kept  up  by  practical 
experience,  becomes  fainter  and  fainter ;  and  in  this  state  of  things  it  is 
merely  an  accident  that  he  remains  nominally  a  Christian  ;  if  he  happens 
to  fall  in  with  an  antichristian  book,  he  will  have  nothing  in  his  own  expe- 
rience to  set  against  the  difficulties  there  presented  to  him,  and  so  he  will  be 
apt  to  yield  to  them.  For  it  must  be  always  understood  that  there  are  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  of  all  religion,  such,  for  instance,  as  the  existence  of  evil 
which  can  never  be  fairly  solved  by  human  powers ;  all  that  can  be  done 
intellectually  is  to  point  out  the  equal  or  greater  difficulties  of  Atheism  or 
skepticism  ;  and  this  is  enough  to  justify  a  good  man's  understanding  in 
being  a  believer.  But  the  real  proof  is  the  practical  one  ;  that  is,  let  a  man 
live  on  the  hypothesis  of  its  falsehood,  the  practical  result  will  be  bad ;  that 
is,  a  man's  besetting  and  constitutional  faults  will  not  be  checked  ;  and  some 
of  his  noblest  feelings  will  be  unexercised,  so  that  if  he  be  right  in  his 
opinions,  truth  and  goodness  are  at  variance  with  one  another,  and  falsehood 
is  more  favourable  to  our  moral  perfection  than  truth  ;  which  seems  the  most 
monstrous  conclusion  which  the  human  mind  can  possibly  arrive  at.  It  fol- 
lows from  this,  that  if  I  were  talking  with  an  Atheist,  I  should  lay  a  great 
deal  of  stress  on  faith  as  a  necessary  condition  of  our  nature,  and  as  a  gift 
of  God  to  be  earnestly  sought  for  in  the  way  which  God  has  appointed,  that 
is,  by  striving  to  do  his  will.  For  faith  does  no  violence  to  our  understand- 
ing,; but  the  intellectual  difficulties  being  balanced,  and  it  being  necessary 
to  act  on  the  one  side  or  the  other,  faith  determines  a  man  to  embrace  that 
side  which  leads  to  moral  and  practical  perfection ;  and  unbelief  leads  him 
to  embrace  the  opposite,  or,  what  I  may  call  the  Devil's  religion,  which  is, 
after  all,  quite  as  much  beset  with  intellectual  difficulties  as  God's  religion 
is,  and  morally  is  nothing  but  one  mass  of  difficulties  and  monstrosities. 
You  may  say  that  the  individual  in  question  is  a  moral  man,  and  you  think 
not  unwilling  to  be  convinced  of  his  errors  ;  that  is,  he  sees  the  moral  truth 
of  Christianity,  but  cannot  be  persuaded  of  it  intellectually.  I  should  say 
that  such  a  state  of  mind  is  one  of  very  painful  trial,  and  should  be  treated 
as  such  ;  that  it  is  a  state  of  mental  disease,  which  like  many  others  is  aggra- 
vated by  talking  about  it,  and  that  he  is  in  great  danger  of  losing  his  per- 
ception of  moral  truth  as  well  as  of  intellectual,  of  wishing  Christianity  to 
be  false  as  well  as  of  being  unable  to  be  convinced  that  it  is  ttue.  There 
are  thousands  of  Christians  who  see  the  difficulties  which  he  sees  quite  as 
clearly  as  he  does,  and  who  long  as  eagerly  as  he  can  do  for  that  time  when 
they  shall  know,  even  as  they  are  known.  But  then  they  see  clearly  the 
difficulties  of  unbelief,  and  know  that  even  intellectually  they  are  far  greater. 
And  in  the  meanwhile  they  are  contented  to  live  by  faith,  and  find  that  in  so 
doing,  their  course  is  practically  one  of  perfect  light ;  the  moral  result  of 
the  experiment  is  so  abundantly  satisfactory,  that  they  are  sure  that  they 
have  truth  on  their  side. 

I  have  written  a  sermon  rather  than  a  letter"  and  perhaps  hardly  made 
myself  intelligible  after  all.  But  the  main  point  is,  that  we  cannot,  and  do 
not  pretend  to  remove  all  the  intellectual  difficulties  of  religion ;  we  only 
contend  that  even  intellectually  unbelief  is  the  more  unreasonable  of  the  two, 
and  that  practically  unbelief  is  folly,  and  faith  is  wisdom. 

If  I  can  be  of  any  further  assistance  to  you  in  your  charitable  labour,  I 
shall  be  most  happy  to  do  my  best. 


XLV.      TO    THE    SAME. 

Rugby,  March  7,  1832. 

I  thank  you  for  your  last  letter,  and  beg  to  assure  you  very  sincerely, 
that  I  shall  have  great  pleasure  in  placing  myself  under  your  directions  with 
regard  to  this  unhappy  man  ;  and  as  he  would  probably  regard  me  with  sus- 


LIFE  OP  DR.  ARNOLD.  195 

picion,  on  account  of  my  profession,  I  think  that  you  would  act  with  the  best 
judgment  in  alluding  to  me  only  in  general  terms,  as  you  propose  to  do, 
without  mentioning  my  name.  But  I  say  this  merely  with  a  view  to  the 
man's  own  feelings  towards  the  clergy,  and  not  from  the  slightest  wish  to 
-have  my  name  kept  back  from  him,  if  you  think  that  it  would  be  better  for 
him  to  be  made  acquainted  with  it.  With  respect  to  your  concluding  ques- 
tion, I  confess  that  I  believe  conscientious  atheism  not  to  exist.  Weakness 
of  faith  is  partly  constitutional,  and  partly  the  result  of  education  and  other 
circumstances  ;  and  this  may  go  intellectually  almost  as  far  as  skepticism ; 
that  is  to  say,  a  man  may  be  perfectly  unable  to  acquire  a  firm  and  undoubt- 
ing  belief  of  the  great  truths  of  religion,  whether  natural  or  revealed.  He 
may  be  perplexed  with  doubts  all  his  days,  nay,  his  fears  lest  the  Gospel 
should  not  be  true,  may  be  stronger  than  his  hopes  that  it  will.  And  this  is 
a  state  of  great  pain,  and  of  most  severe  trial,  to  be  pitied  heartily,  but  not 
to  be  condemned.  I  am  satisfied  that  a  good  man  can  never  get  further 
than  this ;  for  his  goodness  will  save  him  from  unbelief,  though  not  from  the 
misery  of  scanty  faith.  I  call  it  unbelief,  when  a  man  deliberately  re- 
nounces his  obedience  to  God,  and  his  sense  of  responsibility  to  Him ;  and 
this  never  can  be  without  something  of  an  evil  heart  rebelling  against  a 
yoke,  which  it  does  not  like  to  bear.  The  man  you  have  been  trying  to  con- 
vert, stands  in  this  predicament : — he  says  that  he  cannot  find  out  God,  and 
that  he  does  not  believe  in  Him ;  therefore  he  renounces  His  service,  and 
chooses  to  make  a  God  of  himself.  Now,  the  idea  of  God  being  no  other 
than  a  combination  of  all  the  highest  excellences  that  we  can  conceive,  it  is 
so  delightful  to  a  good  and  sound  mind,  that  it  is  misery  to  part  with  it ;  and 
such  a  mind,  if  it  cannot  discern  God  clearly,  concludes  that  the  fault  is  in 
itself — that  it  cannot  yet  reach  to  God,  not  that  God  does  not  exist.  You 
see  there  must  be  an  assumption  in  either  case,  for  the  thing  does  not  admit 
of  demonstration,  and  the  assumption  that  God  is,  or  is  not,  depends  on  the 
degree  of  moral  pain,  which  a  man  feels  in  relinquishing  the  idea  of  God. 
And  here,  I  think,  is  the  moral  fault  of  unbelief: — that  a  man  can  bear  to 
make  so  great  a  moral  sacrifice,  as  is  implied  in  renouncing  God.  He 
makes  the  greatest  moral  sacrifice  to  obtain  partial  satisfaction  to  his  intel- 
lect :  a  believer  ensures  the  greatest  moral  perfection,  with  partial  satisfac- 
tion to  his  intellect  also  ;  entire  satisfaction  to  the  intellect  is,  and  can  be,  at- 
tained by  neither.  Thus,  then,  I  believe,  generally,  that  he  who  has  reject- 
ed God,  must  be  morally  faulty,  and  therefore  justly  liable  to  punishment. 
But  of  course,  no  man  dare  to  apply  this  to  any  particular  case,  because  our 
moral  faults  themselves  are  so  lessened  or  aggravated  by  circumstances  to 
be  known  only  by  Him  who  sees  the  heart,  that  the  judgment  of  those  who 
see  the  outward  conduct  only,  must  ever  be  given  in  ignorance. 


XLVl.      TO    J.    T.    COLERIDGE,    ESQ.. 

Rugby,  April  5,  1832. 

I  could  still  rave  about  Rydal — it  was  a  period  of  five 

weeks  of  almost  awful  happiness,  absolutely  without  a  cloud ;  and  we  all 
enjoyed  it  I  think  equally — mother,  father,  and  fry.  Our  intercourse  with 
the  Wordsworths  was  one  of  the  brightest  spots  of  all,  nothing  could  ex- 
ceed their  friendliness — and  my  almost  daily  walks  with  him  were  things 
not  to  be  forgotten.  Once,  and  once  only,  we  had  a  good  fight  about  the 
Reform  Bill  during  a  walk  up  Greenhead  Ghyll  to  see  "  the  unfinished 
sheepfold"  recorded  in  "  Michael."  But  I  am  sure  that  our  political  disa- 
greement did  not  at  all  interfere  with  our  enjoyment  of  each  other's  society; 
for  I  think  that  in  the  great  principles  of  things  we  agreed  very  entirely — 
and  only  differed  as  to  the  t«  xa&'  txaora.  We  are  thinking  of  buying  or 
renting   a  place  at  Grasmere  or  Rydal,  to  spend  our  holidays  at  constantly; 


196  LIFE   0F   DR.  ARNCLD. 

for  not  only  are  the  Wordsworths  and  the  scenery  a  very  great  attraction, 
hut  as  I  had  the  chapel  atJlydal  all  the  time  of  our  last  visit,  I  got  acquaint- 
ed with  the  poorer  people  besides,  and  you  cannot  tell  wnat  a  home-like 
feeling  all  of  us  entertain  towards  the  valley  of  the  Rotha.  I  found  that  the 
newspapers  so  disturbed  me,  that  we  have  given  them  up,  and  only  take  one 
once  a  week  ;  it  only  vexes  me  to  read,  especially  when  I  cannot  do  any 
tiling  in  the  way  of  writing.  But  I  cannot  understand  how  you,  apprecia- 
ting so  fully  the  dangers  of  the  times,  can  blame  me  for  doing  the  little  which 
I  can  to  counteract  the  evil.  No  one  feels  more  than  I  do  the  little  fruit  which 
I  am  likely  to  produce ;  still  I  know  that  the  letters  have  been  read  and  liked 
by  some  of  the  class  of  men  whom  I  most  wish  to  influence ;  and,  besides, 
what  do  I  sacrifice,  or  what  do  I  risk  ?  If  things  go  as  we  fear,  it  will  make 
very  little  difference  whether  I  wrote  in  the  Sheffield  Courant  or  no,  whereas, 
if  God  yet  saves  us,  I  may  be  abused,  as  I  have  been  long  since,  by  a  cer- 
tain party ;  but  it  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  either  I  or  the  school  suffer 

by  that I  quite  think  that  a  great  deal  will  depend  on  the 

next  three  or  four  years,  as  to  the  permanent  success  of  Rugby;  we  are 
still  living  on  credit,  but  of  course  credit  will  not  last  for  ever,  unless  there  is 
something  to  warrant  it.  Our  general  style  of  composition  is  still  bad,  but 
where  the  fault  is,  I  cannot  say ;  some  of  our  boys,  however,  do  beautifully  ; 
and  one  copy  of  Greek  verses  (Iambics)  on  Clitumnus,  which  was  sent  in 
to  me  about  a  month  ago,  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  school  copies  I  ever 
saw.  I  should  like  to  show  it  to  you,  or  even  to  your  brother  Edward ;  for  I 
do  not  think  any  of  his  pupils  could  write  better — tovro  Si,  w;  ily.bq,  andviov. 


XLVII.      TO    REV.    G.   CORNISH. 

Rugby,  June  9,  18  2. 

We  are  again,  I  believe,  going  to  the  Lakes  in  the  holi- 
days :  to  a  great  house  near  the  head  of  Winandermere,  Brathay  Hall ;  be- 
cause our  dear  old  house  at  Rydal  is  let  for  a  twelvemonth.  We  all  look 
with  delight  to  our  migration,  though  the  half  year  has  gone  on  very  happily 
as  far  as  the  school  is  concerned,  and  I  am  myself  perfectly  well ;  but  in 
these  times  of  excitement  the  thirst  for  a  "  lodge  in  some  vast  wilderness," 
is  almost  irresistible.  We  are  going  to  have  a  dinner  here  for  all  the  town 
on  passing  the  Reform  Bill : — the  thing  was  to  be,  and  I  have  been  labour- 
ing to  alter  its  name,  and  to  divest  it  of  every  thing  political,  in  order  that 
every  body  might  join  in  it;  but  of  all  difficult  offices,  that  of  a  peacemaker 
seems  to  me  to  be  one  of  the  hardest.  What  a  delightful  man  we  have  in 
Grenfell — so. lively,  and  so  warm-hearted.  I  thought  of  you  and  of  Bagley 
Wood,  and  old  times,  when  I  walked  with  him  the  other  day  in  the  rain 
to  a  wood  about  four  miles  from  here,  dug  up  orchis  roots,  and  then  bathed 
on  our  way  home,  hanging  our  clothes  on  a  stick  under  a  tree,  to  save  them 
from  being  wet  in  the  interval.  ...  I  do  not  wonder  at  what  you  say  about 
the  civility  and  compliance  of  the  people  with  your  instructions,  as  Rural 
Dean.  I  think  it  is  so  still, — and  the  game  is  yet  in  our  hands  if  we  would 
play  it ;  but  I  suppose  we  shall  not  play  it,  and  five  or  ten  years  hence  it 
will  be  no  longer  ours  to  play.  120,000  copies  of  the  Penny  Magazine  cir- 
culate weekly  !  We  join  in  kindest  love  and  regard  to  you  all.  Would  that 
we  might  ever  meet,  before  perhaps  we  meet  in  America  or  at  sea  after  the 
Revolution. 


XLV1II.       TO    REV.    J.    E.    TYLER. 

Rugby,  June  10, 1832. 

Your  letter  interested  me  exceedingly.     I  have  had  some  correspondence 
with  the  Useful  Knowledge  people  about  their  Penny  Magazine,  and  have 


LIFE   OP    DR.  AR.NOLD.  I97 

sent  them  some  things  which  I  am  waiting  to  see  whether  they  will  publish. 
I  want  to  give  their  Magazine  a  decidedly  Christian  character,  and  then  I 
think  it  would  suit  my  notions  better  than  any  other ;  but  of  course  what  I 
have  been  doing,  or  may  do  lor  them,  does  not  hinder  me  from  doing  what 
I  can  for  you.  I  only  suspect  I  should  wish  to  liberalize  your  Magazine,  as 
I  wish  to  Christianize  theirs ;  and  probably  your  Committee  would  recalci- 
trate against  any  such  operation,  as  theirs  may  do.  The  Christian  Know- 
ledge Society  has  a  bad  name  for  the  dulness  of  its  publications  ;  and  their 
contributions  to  the  cause  of  general  knowledge,  and  enlightening  the  peo- 
ple in  earnest,  may  seem  a  little  tardy  and  reluctant.  This,  however,  touches 
you,  as  an  individual  member  of  the  Society,  no  more  than  it  does  myself; 
only  the  name  of  the  Society  is  not  in  good  odour.  As  for  the  thing  itself, 
it  is  one  on  which  I  am  half  wild,  and  am  not  sure,  that  I  shall  not  start  one 
at  my  own  expense  down  here,  and  call  it  the  Warwickshire  Magazine  ; 
and  I  believe  that  it  would  answer  in  the  long  run,  if  there  were  funds  to 
keep  it  up  for  a  time  ;  but  "  experto  crede,"  it  is  an  expensive  work  to  push 
an  infant  journal  up  hill.  The  objection  to  a  Magazine  is  its  desultoriness 
and  vagueness — it  is  all  scraps ;  whereas  a  newspaper  has  a  regular  sub- 
ject, and  follows  it  up  continuously.  I  would  try  to  do  this  as  much  as  I 
could  in  a  Magazine.  I  would  have  in  every  number  one  portion  of  the  pa- 
per for  miscellanies,  but  I  think  that  in  another  portion  there  should  be  some 
subjects  followed  up  regularly;  e.  g.  the  history  of  our  present  state  of  so- 
ciety traced  backwards ;  the  history  of  agriculture,  including  that  of  inclo- 
sures ;  the  statistics  of  different  countries,  &c.  &c.  I  suppose  the  object  is 
to  instruct  those  who  have  few  books  and  little  education  ;  but  all  instruction 
must  be  systematic,  and  it  is  this  which  the  people  want:  they  want  to  have 
ao/ai  before  them,  and  comprehensive  outlines  of  what  follows  from  those 
ao/ai ;  not  a  parcel  of  detached  stories  about  natural  history,  or  this  place, 
or  that  man, — all  entertaining  enough,  but  not  instructive  to  minds  wholly 
destitute  of  any  thing  like  a  frame,  in  which  to  arrange  miscellaneous  infor- 
mation. And  I  believe,  if  done  spiritedly,  that  systematic  information  would 
be  even  more  attractive  than  the  present  hodge-podge  of  odds  and  ends. 
Above  all,  be  afraid  of  teaching  nothing  :  it  is  vain  now  to  say  that  questions 
of  religion  and  politics  are  above  the  understanding  of  the  poorer  classes  : 
so  they  may  be,  but  they  are  not  above  their  misunderstanding,  and  they 
will  think  and  talk  about  them,  so  that  they  had  best  be  taught  to  think  and 
talk  rightly.  It  is  worth  while  to  look  at  Owen's  paper,  "  The  Crisis,"  or  at 
the  "  Midland  Representative,"  the  great  paper  of  the  Birmingham  opera- 
tives. The  most  abstract  points  are  discussed  in  them,  and  the  very  foun- 
dations of  all  things  are  daily  being  probed,  as  much  as  by  the  sophists,  whom 
it  was  the  labour  of  Socrates'  life  to  combat.  Phrases  which  did  well  enough 
formerly,  now  only  excite  a  sneer ;  it  does  not  do  to  talk  to  the  operatives 
about  our  "  pure  and  apostolical  church,"  and  "  our  glorious  constitution," 
they  have  no  respect  for  either  ;  but  one  must  take  higher  ground,  and  show 
that  our  object  is  not  to  preserve  particular  institutions,  so  much  as  to  uphold 
eternal  principles,  which  are  in  great  danger  of  falling  into  disrepute,  be- 
cause of  the  vices  of  the  institutions  which  profess  to  exemplify  them.  The 
Church,  as  it  now  stands,  no  human  power  can  save ;  my  fear  is,  that,  if  we 
do  not  mind,  we  shall  come  to  the  American  fashion,  and  have  no  provision 
made  for  the  teaching  Christianity  at  all.  But  it  is  late,  and  I  must  go  to 
bed  ;  and  I  have  prosed  to  you  enough  ;  but  I  am  as  bad  about  these  things 
as  Don  Quixote  with  his  knight-errantry,  and  when  once  I  begin,  I  do  not 
readily  stop. 


XLIX.       TO    HIS  NEPHEW,  J.  WARD,  ESQ..,   ON  HIS  MARRIAGE. 

Brathay  Hall,  July  7,  1832. 

A  man's  life  in  London,  while  he  is  single,  may  be  very 

stirring,  and  very  intellectual,  but  I  imagine  that  it  must  have  a  hardening 


198  LIFE   0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

effect,  and  that  this  effect  will  be  more  felt  every  year  as  the  counter  tenden- 
cies of  youth  become  less  powerful.  The  most  certain  softeners  of  a  man's 
moral  skin,  and  sweeteners  of  his  blood,  are,  I  am  sure,  domestic  intercourse 
in  a  happy  marriage,  and  intercourse  with  the  poor.  It  is  very  hard,  I  im- 
agine, in  our  present  state  of  society,  to  keep  up  intercourse  with  God  with- 
out one  or  both  of  these  aids  to  foster  it.  Romantic  and  fantastic  indolence 
was  the  fault  of  other  times  and  other  countries ;  here  I  crave  more  and 
more  every  day  to  find  men  unfettered  by  the  constant  excitement  of  the 
world,  whether  literary,  political,  commercial,  or  fashionable ;  men  who, 
while  they  are  alive  to  all  that  is  around  them,  feel  also  who  is  above  them. 
I  would  give  more  than  I  can  say,  if  your  Useful  Knowledge  Society  Com- 
mittee had  this  last  feeling,  as  strongly  as  they  have  the  other  purely  and 

beneficently I  care  not  for  one  party  or  the  other,  but  I  do 

care  for  the  country,  and  for  interests  even  more  precious  than  that  of  the 
country,  which  the  present  disordered  state  of  the  human  mind  seems  threat- 
ening. But  this  mixes  strangely  with  your  present  prospects,  and  I  hope  we 
may  both  manage  to  live  in  peace  with  our  families  in  the  land  of  our  fathers, 
without  crossing  the  Atlantic. 


L.      TO    THE  ARCHBISHOP    OF  DUBLIN. 

Brathay  Hall,  July  8,  1832. 

This  place  is  complete  rest,  such  as  I  wish  you  could  enjoy  after  your  far 

more  anxious  occupations As  to  the  state  of  the  country,  I  find 

my  great  concern  about  it  comes  by  accesses,  sometimes  weighing  upon  me 

heavily,  and  then  again  laid  aside  as  if  it  were  nothing I  wish 

that  your  old  notion  of  editing  a  family  Bible  could  be  revived.  I  do  not 
know  any  thing  which  more  needs  to  be  done,  and  it  would  be  a  very  de- 
lightful thing  if  it  could  be  accompanied  with  really  good  maps  and  engrav- 
ings, which  might  be  done  if  a  large  sale  could  be  reckoned  upon.  It  might 
be  published  in  penny  numbers,  not  beginning  with  Genesis,  but  with  some 
of  the  most  important  parts  of  the  New  Testament,  e.  g.  St.  John's  Gospel 
or  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans.  Some  of  the  historical  books  of  the  old  Tes- 
tament, I  should  be  inclined  to  publish  last  of  all,  as  being  the  least  impor- 
tant, whilst  the  Psalms  and  some  of  the  Prophets  should  appear  very  early. 
I  am  even  grand  enough  to  aspire  after  a  new,  or  rather  a  corrected  transla- 
tion, for  I  would  alter  only  manifest  faults  or  obscurities,  and  even  then  pre- 
serving as  closely  as  possible  the  style  of  the  old  translation.  Many  could 
do  this  for  the- New  Testament,  but  where  is  the  man,  in  England  at  least, 

who  could  do  it  for  the  Old  ? But  alas !  for  your  being  at 

Dublin  instead  of  at  Canterbury. 


Ll.      TO    REV.  J.  B.  TYLER. 

Manchester,  July  28,  1832. 

I  am  on  my  way  to  Laleham  from  the  Lakes,  to  see  my  poor  sister,  whose 
long  illness  seems  now  at  last  on  the  point  of  being  happily  ended.  And 
whilst  waiting  here  for  a  coach,  I  have  just  bought  four  of  the  numbers  of 
the  Saturday  Magazine,  and  think  this  a  good  opportunity  to  answer  your 
last  kind  letter.  The  difficulty  which  occurs  to  me  in  your  sermon  project, 
is,  how  to  make  the  work  sufficiently  systematic,  or  sufficiently  particular.  I 
mean  this,  a  real  sermon  has  very  often  no  sort  of  connexion  with  its  last 
week's  predecessor,  or  next  week's  successor ;  but  then  it  is  appropriate 
either  to  something  in  the  service  of  the  day,  or  else  to  something  in  the 
circumstances  of  the  hearers,  which  makes  it  fitting  for  that  especial  season. 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


199 


And  if  it  be  nothing  of  any  of  these,  but  a  mere  sermon  which  might  as 
well  be  preached  on  any  other  day,  and  in  any  other  place  as  when  and 
where  it  is  actually  preached,  then  I  hold  it  to  be,  with  rare  exceptions,  a 
very  dull  thing,  and  a  very  useless  one.  Now  in  a  monthly  publication  of 
Sermons,  you  lose  all  the  advantages  of  local  and  personal  applicability: — 
you  have  only  the  applicability  of  time,  or  of  matter  ;  that  is,  your  month's 
sermons  may  be  written  on  the  lessons  for  the  month,  or  the  part  of  Scrip- 
ture then  read,  or  on  the  season  of  the  year,  whether  natural  or  ecclesiasti- 
cal ;  or  else  they  may  form  successive  parts  of  one  great  whole,  to  be  com- 
pleted in  any  given  time,  and  to  be  announced  in  the  first  of  the  series.  But 
if  you  publish  a  mere  collection  of  miscellaneous  sermons,  I  think  you  will 
be  wasting  your  labour. 

Now  then  practically  to  the  point.  Fix  on  your  plan,  whether  your 
arrangement  be  of  time  or  of  matter,  or  of  both ; — and  let  me  know  what 
part  you  would  like  me  to  take :  e.  g.  whether  sermons  on  any  given  book 
of  Scripture,  or  on  the  Lessons  for  the  Sundays  in  Advent,  or  in  Lent,  or  at 
any  other  given  period ; — or  Sermons  for  Spring  or  Winter,  &c,  adapted 
either  to  an  agricultural  or  manufacturing  population  ;  or,  if  you  like  the 
arrangement  of  matter,  give  me  any  subject  that  you  choose,  whether  of 
evidence,  history,  or  exhortation  upon  doctrine,  and  I  will  do  my  best  for 
you ;  but  I  cannot  write  sermons  in  the  abstract.  I  like  to  have  my  own 
portion  of  any  work  to  be  kept  to  myself,  and  you  would  not  thank  me  for 
copying  out  for  you  some  of  my  old  sermons  out  of  my  paper  case. 

I  am  sorry  for  what  you  say  about  my  not  writing  any  thing  startling  ; 
because  it  shows  how  long  we  have  been  absent  from  one  another,  and  that 
you  are  beginning  to  judge  me  in  part  upon  the  reports  of  others.  There 
are  some  people  whom  I  must  startle,  if  I  am  to  do  any  good ;  and  so  you 
think  too,  I  am  sure.  But  to  startle  the  majority  of  good  and  sensible  men, 
or  to  startle  so  as  to  disgust  at  once  a  majority  of  any  sort,  are  things  which 
I  most  earnestly  should  wish  to  avoid.  At  the  same  time,  I  do  strongly 
object  on  principle  to  the  use  of  that  glozing,  unnatural,  and  silly  language, 
(for  so  it  is  in  us  now,)  which  men  use  one  after  another,  till  it  becomes  as 
worn  as  one  of  the  old  shillings 

I  wish  your  Saturday  Magazine  all  success ;  I  do  not  quite  like  the  in- 
troductory article, — but  I  think  it  improves  as  it  goes  along.  The  print  of 
the  departure  of  the  Israelites  was  a  good  notion,  and  well  executed;  and  I 
like  some  of  your  poetry.  I  could  only  do  you  good  by  sending  you  some- 
thing very  radical ;  for  you  will  have  enough  of  what  is  right  and  proper. 
But  seriously,  if  I  can  persuade  the  Penny  Magazine  to  receive  things 
more  in  your  tone,  I  think  I  shall  do  more  good  than  by  writing  for  you — if, 
as  I  fear,  I  cannot  do  both.  In  fact,  I  have  for  some  time  past  done  neither, 
and  I  know  not  how  or  when  I  can  mend. 


LII.      TO    THE     ARCHBISHOP    OF   DUBLIN. 

Rugby,  September  6,  1832. 

Have  you  heard  that  the  Useful  Knowledge  Society  have 

resolved  to  publish  a  Bible,  and  asked to  be  editor  ?     Hac  tamen  lege, 

that,  where  doctrine  is  introduced,  the  opinions  of  the  different  sects  of 
Christians  should  be  fairly  stated.  Now  Evans's  Dictionary  of  all  Religions 
is  a  useful  book,  but  I  do  not  want  exactly  to  see  it  made  a  rider  upon  the 

Scriptures.     We  want  something  better  than  this  plan I  told 

that  I  must  write  to  you  before  I  gave  him  any  promise  of  assistance. 

O  !  for  your  Bible  plan,  or,  at  least,  for  the  sanction  of  your  name  :  I  think  I 
see  the  possibility  of  a  true  comprehensive  Christian  Commentary,  keeping 


200  L1FE  0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

back  none  of  the  counsel  of  God,  lowering  no  truth,  chilling  no  lofty  or  spir- 
itual sentiment,  yet  neither  silly,  fanatical,  nor  sectarian.  Your  book  on 
Romanism  shows  how  this  may  be  done,  and  it  applies  to  all  sects  alike. 
They  are  not  all  error,  nor  we  all  truth  ;  e.  g.  the  Quakers  reject  the  Com- 
munion of  the  Lord's  Supper,  thereby  losing  a  great  means  of  grace  ;  but 
are  they  not  tempted  to  do  so  by  the  superstitions  which  other  Christians 
have  heaped  upon  the  institution,  and  is  there  not  some  taint  of  these  in  the 
Exhortation  even  in  our  own  Communion  Service  ?  And  with  regard  to  the 
greatest  truths  of  all,  you  know  how  Pelagianism  and  Calvinism  have  en- 
couraged each  other,  and  how  the  Athanasian  Creed,  at  this  day,  confirms 
and  aggravates  the  evils  of  Unitarianism.  I  heard  some  time  since,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  that,  in  the  United  States,  where  the  Episcopal  Church  has 
expelled  this  creed,  the  character  of  Unitarianism  is  very  different  from  what 
it  is  in  England,  and  is  returning  towards  high  Arianism,  just  as  here  it  has 
gone  a  downward  course  to  the  very  verge  of  utter  unbelief.  I  know  how 
much  you  have  on  your  hands  and  on  your  mind ;  I,  too,  have  my  hobbies, 
but  I  know  of  nothing  more  urgent  than  to  circulate  such  an  edition  of  the 
Scriptures,  as  might  labour,  with  God's  help,  to  give  their  very  express  im- 
age without  human  addition  or  omission,  striving  to  state  clearly  what  is 
God's  will  with  regard  to  us  now ;  for  this  seems  to  me  to  be  one  great 
use  of  a  commentary,  to  make  people  understand  where  God  spoke  to  their 
fathers,  and  where  he  speaks  to  them  ;  or  rather, — since  in  all  He  speaks  to 
them,  though  not  after  the  same  manner, — to  teach  them  to  distinguish  where 
they  are  to  follow  the  letter,  and  where  the  spirit. 

I  have  promised  to  send  Tyler  some  sermons  for  his  Magazine,  though 
the  abstract  idea  of  a  sermon  is  rather  a  puzzle  to  my  faculties,  accustomed 
as  they  are  to  cling  to  things  in  the  concrete.  But  I  am  vexed  to  find  how 
much  of  hopeless  bigotry  lingers  in  minds,  blq  i'jy.iata  fygrj.  I  am  sure  old 
is  personally  cooled  towards  me,  by  the  Essay  attached  to  the  Ser- 
mons, and  the  Sheffield  Courant  Letters.  And  another  very  old  and  dear 
friend  wrote  to  me  about  my  grievous  errors  and  yours,  praying  "  that  I 
may  be  delivered  from  such  false  doctrines,  and  restrained  from  promul- 
gating them."  These  men  have  the  advantage  over  us,  Uy<a  mt'  avfroomov. 
which  the  Catholics  had  over  the  Protestants :  they  taxed  them  with  dam- 
nable heresy,  and  pronounced  their  salvation  impossible ;  the  Protestants  in 
return  only  charged  them  with  error  and  superstition,  till  some  of  the  hotter 
sort,  impatient  of  such  an  unequal  rejoinder,  bethought  themselves  of  retorting 
with  the  charge  of  damnable  idolatry.  But  still  I  think  that  we  have  the  best 
of  it,  in  not  letting  what  we  firmly  believe  to  be  error  and  ignorance  shake 
our  sense  of  that  mightier  bond  of  union,  which  exists  between  all  those  who 
love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity ;  perhaps  I  should  say,  in  not  letting 
our  sense  of  the  magnitude  of  the  error  lead  us  to  question  the  sincerity  of 
the  love. 

I  must  conclude  with  a  more  delightful  subject— my  most  dear  and  blessed 
sister.1  I  never  saw  a  more  perfect  instance  of  the  spirit  of  power  and  of 
love,  and  of  a  sound  mind;  intense  love,  almost  to  the  annihilation  of  selfish- 
ness— a  daily  martyrdom  for  twenty  years,  during  which  she  adhered  to  her 
early  formed  resolution  of  never  talking  about  herself;  thoughtful  about  the 
very  pins  and  ribands  of  my  wife's  dress,  about  the  making  of  a  doll's  cap 
for  a  child — but  of  herself,  save  only  as  regarded  her  ripening  in  all  good- 
ness, wholly  thoughtless,  enjoying  every  thing  lovely,  graceful,  beautiful, 
high-minded,  whether  in  God's  works  or  man's,  with  the  keenest  relish ; 
inheriting  the  earth  to  the  very  fulness  of  the  promise,  though  never  leaving 
her  crib,  nor  changing  her  posture ;  and  preserved  through  the  very  valley 
of  the  shadow  of  death,  from  all  fear  or  impatience,  or.  from  every  cloud  of 

1  Susannah  Arnold  died  at  Laleham,  August  20,  1832,  after  a  complaint  in  the 
spine  of  twenty-one  years'  duration. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  2qj 

impaired  reason,  which  might  mar  the  beauty  of  Christ's  Spirit's  glorious 
work.  May  God  grant  that  I  might  come  but  within  one  hundred  degrees 
of  her  nlace  in  o-lorv.     God  bless  von  all. 


of  her  place  in  glory.     God  bless  you  all. 


LIII.      TO    J.  T.  COLERIDGE,  ESQ. 

Rugby,  September  17,  1832. 

Much  has  happened  since  April,  but  nothing  to  me  of  so 

much  interest  as  the  death  of  my  dear  sister  Susannah,  after  twenty-one 
years  of  suffering.  We  were  called  up  hastily  to  Laleham  in  June,  hardly 
expecting  then  to  find  her  alive ;  but  she  rallied  again  and  we  went  down 
with  all  our  family  to  the  Lakes  for  the  holidays,  intending  to  return  to 
Laleham  for  a  short  time  before  the  end  of  the  vacation.  But  the  accounts 
became  worse,  and  we  went  up  to  her,  leaving  the  children  at  the  Lakes, 
towards  the  end  of  July.  We  spent  more  than  a  fortnight  at  Laleham,  and 
returned  to  Rugby  on  the  18th  of  August,  expecting,  or  at  least  not  despair- 
ing of  seeing  her  again  in  the  winter.  On  the  23rd  we  heard  from  Mrs. 
Buckland,  to  say  that  all  was  over;  she  had  died  on  the  night  of  the  21st, 
so  suddenly  that  the  Bucklands  could  not  be  called  from  the  next  house  in 
time.  The  last  months,  I  may  say  indeed  the  last  twenty  years  of  her  life, 
had  been  a  constant  preparation,  and  she  was  only  spared  the  nervous  fear 
which  none  probably  can  wholly  overcome,  of  expecting  the  approach  of 
death  within  a  definite  time.  I  never  saw  nor  ever  heard  of  a  more  com- 
plete triumph  over  selfishness,  a  more  glorious  daily  renewing  of  soul  and 
spirit  amidst  the  decays  and  sufferings  of  the  body,  than  was  displayed 
throughout  her  twenty  years'  martyrdom.  My  poor  aunt,  well  comparatively 
speaking  in  body,  but  decayed  sadly  in  her  mind,  still  lives  in  the  same  house, 
close  to  the  Bucklands;  the  only  remaining  survivor  of  what  I  call  the 
family  of  my  childhood.  I  attach  a  very  peculiar  value  to  the  common  ar- 
ticles of  furniture,  the  mere  pictures,  and  china,  and  books,  and  candlesticks, 
«fec,  which  I  have  seen  grouped  together  in  my  infancy,  and  whilst  my  aunt 
still  keeps  them,  it  seems  to  me  as  if  my  father's  house  were  not  quite 
broken  up. 

You  may  have  heard,  perhaps,  that  great  as  is  the  loss  of  this  dear  sister, 
I  was  threatened  with  one  still  heavier  in  May  last.  My  wife  was  seized 
with  a  most  virulent  sore  throat,  which  brought  on  a  premature  confinement, 
and  for  some  time  my  distress  was  greater  than  it  has  been  since  her  dan- 
gerous illness  in  1821.  But  she  was  mercifully  recovered,  not  however 
without  the  loss  of  our  little  baby,  a  beautiful  little  girl,  who  just  lived  for 
seven  days,  and  then  drooped  away  and  died  of  no  other  disorder  than  her 
premature  birth.  We  had  nothing  but  illness  in  our  house  during  the  whole- 
spring  ;  wife,  children,  servants,  all  were  laid  up  one  after  the  other,  and  for 
some  time  I  never  got  up  in  the  morning  without  hearing  of  some  new  case, 
either  amongst  my  own  family  or  amongst  the  boys.  Then  came  the  cho- 
lera at  Newbold  ;  and  I  thought  that,  beat  as  we  were  by  such  a  succession 
of  illnesses,  we  were  in  no  condition  to  encounter  this  new  trouble;  and 
therefore,  with  the  advice  of  our  medical  men,  I  hastily  dispersed  the  school. 
We  went  down  bodily  to  the  Lakes,  and  took  possession  of  Brathay  Hall,  a 
large  house  and  large  domain,  just  on  the  head  of  Winandermere.  It  was 
like  Tinian  to  Anson's  crew,  never  was  there  such  a  renewal  of  strength  and 
spirits  as  our  children  experienced  from  their  six  weeks' sojourn  in  this  Para- 
dise. And  for  their  mamma  and  papa,  the  month  that  we  spent  there  was 
not  less  delightful.  Our  intimacy  with  the  Wordsworths  was  cemented,  and 
scenery  and  society  together  made  the  time  a  period  of  enjoyment,  which 
it  seemed  almost  wholesome  for  us  not  to  have  longer  continued,  [ir\  vooxoln 
la&ojfit&a,. 

14 


202  L1PE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

And  now  we  are  all  at  work  again,  the  school  very  full,  very  healthy,  and 
I  think  in  a  most  beautiful  temper ;  the  sixth  form  working  pd\i<jTa.y.a&'  ivx^jv, 
and  all  things  at  present  promising.  I  am  quite  well,  and  enjoying  my 
work  exceedingly ;  may  I  only  remember  that  after  all  the  true  work  is  to 
have  a  daily  living  faith  in  Him  whom  God  sent.  Send  me  a  letter  to  tell 
me  fully  about  you  and  yours ;  it  is  sad  that  we  can  never  meet,  but  we 
must  write  oftener.  Business  ought  not  so  to  master  us  as  not  to  leave  time 
for  a  better  business,  and  one  which  I  trust  will  last  longer,  for  I  love  to 
think  that  Christian  friendships  may  be  part  of  the  business  of  eternity. 
God  ever  bless  you. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE,  JANUARY  1833  TO  SEPTEMBER  1835. 

His  alarm  about  the  state  of  the  poor  naturally  subsided  with  the 
tranquillizatioLi  of  the  disturbances  amongst  the  rural  population, 
but  was  succeeded  by  an  alarm  almost  as  great,  lest  the  political 
agitation  which,  in  1832,  took  the  form  of  the  cry  for  Church  Re- 
form, should  end  in  destroying  what,  with  all  its  defects,  seemed  to 
him  the  greatest  instrument  of  social  and  moral  good  existing  in 
the  country.  It  was  this  strong  conviction,  which,  in  1833,  origina- 
ted his  pamphlet  on  "  the  Principles  of  Church  Reform."  "  I  hung 
back,"  he  said,  "  as  long  as  I  could,  till  the  want  was  so  urgent 
that  I  sat  down  to  write,  because  I  could  not  help  it."  But  with 
him  preservation  was  only  another  word  for  reform  ;  and  here  the 
reform  proposed  was  great  in  proportion  as  he  thought  the  stake  at 
issue  was  dear,  and  the  danger  formidable.  "  Most  earnestly  do  I 
wish  to  see  the  Establishment  reformed,"  was  the  closing  sentence 
of  his  Postscript,  "  at  once,  for  the  sake  of  its  greater  security,  and 
its  greater  perfection  ;  but,  whether  reformed  or  not,  may  God  in 
his  mercy  save  us  from  the  calamity  of  seeing  it  destroyed  !"  As 
much  of  the  misunderstanding  of  his  character  arose  from  a  par- 
tial knowledge  of  this  pamphlet,  and  of  his  object  in  writing  it,  it 
may  be  as  well  to  give,  in  his  own  words,  the  answer  which  he 
made  to  a  friend,  in  1840.  to  a  general  charge  of  indiscretion  brought 
against  him. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  the  charge  of  '  Indiscretion,'  apart  of  course  from 
the  truth  or  error  of  the  opinions  expressed,  belongs  only  to  my  Church  Re- 
form pamphlet.  Now,  I  am  quite  ready  to  allow,  that  to  publish  such  a 
pamphlet  in  1840,  or  indeed  at  any  period  since  1834,  would  have  been  the 
height  of  indiscretion.  But  I  wrote  that  pamphlet  in  1833,  when  most  men 
— myself  among  the  number — had  an  exaggerated  impression  of  the  strength 
of  the  movement  party,  and  of  the  changes  which  it  was  likely  to  effect. 
My  pamphlet  was  written  on  the  supposition — not  implied,  but  expressed 
repeatedly — that  the  Church  Establishment  was  in  extreme  danger  ;  and 
therefore  I  proposed  remedies,  which,  although  I  do  still  sincerely  believe 
them  to  be  in  themselves  right  and  good,  yet  would  be  manifestly  chimerical, 
and  to  advise  them  might  well  be  called  indiscreet,  had  not  the  danger  and 
alarm,  as  I  supposed,  been  imminent.  I  mistook,  undoubtedly,  both  the 
strength  and  intenseness  of  the  movement,  and  the  weakness  of  the  party 
opposed  to  it ;  but  I  do  not  think  that  I  was  singular  in  my  error — many 


204  LIFE   0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

persisted  in  it :  Lord  Stanley,  for  example,  even  in  1834  and  the  subsequent 
years — many  even  hold  it  still,  when  experience  has  proved  its  fallacy.  But 
the  startling  nature  of  my  proposals,  which  I  suppose  constitutes  what  is 
called  their  indiscretion,  is  to  be  judged  by  the  state  of  things  in  1832-3, 
and  not  by  that  of  times  present.  Jephson  finds  that  his  patients  will  adopt  a 
very  strict  diet,  when  they  believe  themselves  to  be  in  danger ;  but  he 
would  be  very  indiscreet  if  he  prescribed  it  to  a  man  who  felt  no  symptoms 
of  indisposition,  for  the  man  would  certainly  laugh  at  him,  although  perhaps 
the  diet  would  do  him   great  good,  if  he  could  be  induced  to  adopt  it." 

The  plan  of  the  pamphlet  itself  is  threefold ;  a  defence  of  the 
national  Establishment,  a  statement  of  the  extreme  danger  to  which 
it  was  exposed,  and  a  proposal  of  what  seemed  to  him  the  only 
means  of  averting  this  danger ; — first,  by  a  design  for  compre- 
hending the  Dissenters  within  the  pale  of  the  Establishment,  with- 
out compromise  of  principle  on  either  side  ;  secondly,  by  various 
details  intended  to  increase  its  actual  efficiency.  The  sensation 
created  by  the  appearance  of  this  pamphlet  was  considerable. 
Within  six  months  of  its  publication  it  passed  through  four  editions. 
It  was  quoted  with  approbation  and  condemnation  by  men  of  the 
most  opposite  parties,  though  with  far  more  of  condemnation  than 
of  approbation.  Dissenters  objected  to  its  attacks  on  what  he  con- 
ceived to  be  their  sectarian  narrowness, — the  Clergy  of  the  Estab- 
lishment to  its  supposed  latitndinarianism  : — its  advocacy  of  large 
reforms  repelled  the  sympathy  of  many  Conservatives — its  advo- 
cacy of  the  importance  of  religious  institutions  repelled  the  sympa- 
thy of  many  Liberals. 

Yet  still  it  was  impossible  not  to  see,  that  it  stood  apart  from  all 
the  rest  of  the  publications  for  and  against  Church  Reform,  then 
issuing  in  such  numbers  from  the  press.  There  were  many,  both 
at  the  time  and  since,  who,  whilst  they  objected  to  its  details,  yet 
believed  its  statement  of  general  principles  to  be  true,  and  only  to 
be  deprecated  because  the  time  was  not  yet  come  for  their  applica- 
tion. There  were  many  again,  who,  whilst  they  objected  to  its 
general  principles,  yet  admired  the  beauty  of  particular  passages,  or 
the  wisdom  of  some  of  the  details.  Such  were  the  statement  of  the 
advantages  of  a  national  and  of  a  Christian  Establishment, — his  de- 
fence of  the  Bishops'  seats  in  Parliament,  and  of  the  high  duties  of 
the  Legislature.  Such,  again,  were  the  suggestion  of  a  multiplica- 
tion of  Bishoprics,  the  creation  of  suffragan  or  subordinate  Bishops 
— the  revival  of  an  inferior  order  of  ministers  or  deacons  in  the 
Establishment — the  use  of  churches  on  week  days — the  want  of 
greater  variety  in  our  forms  of  worship  than  is  afforded  by  the  ordi- 
nary course  of  morning  and  evening  prayer — all  of  them  points 
which,  being  then  proposed  nearly  for  the  first  time,  have  since 
received  the  sanction  of  a  large  part  of  public  opinion,  if  not  of 
public  practice. 

One  point  of  detail,  so  little  connected  with  his  general  views 
as  not  to  be  worth  mentioning  on  its  own  account,  yet  deserves  to 
be  recorded,  as  a  curious  instance  of  the  disproportionate  attention 
which  may  sometimes  be  attracted  to  one  unimportant  passage  ; 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  205 

namely,  the  suggestion  that  if  Dissenters  were  comprehended 
within  the  Establishment,  the  use  of  different  forms  of  worship  at 
different  hours  of  the  Sunday  in  the  parish  church,  might  tend  to 
unite  the  worshippers  more  closely  to  the  Church  of  their  fathers 
and  to  one  another.  This  suggestion,  torn  from  the  context  and 
represented  in  language  which  it  is  not  necessary  here  to  specify, 
is  the  one  sole  idea  which  many  have  conceived  of  the  whole 
pamphlet,  which  many  also  have  conceived  of  his  whole  theological 
teaching,  which  not  a  few  have  conceived  even  of  his  whole  cha- 
racter. Yet  this  suggestion  is  a  mere  detail,  only  recommended 
conditionally;  a  detail  occupying  two  pages  in  a  pamphlet  of 
eighty-eight ;  a  detail,  indeed,  which  in  other  countries  has  been 
adopted  without  difficulty  amongst  Protestants,  Greeks,  and  Roman 
Catholics,  and  which,  in  principle  at  least,  has  since  been  sanctioned, 
in  the  alternate  use  in  one  instance  of  the  Prussian  and  English 
Liturgies,  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  the  Bishop  of  Lon- 
don ; — but  a  detail,  on  which  he  himself  laid  no  stress  either  then 
or  afterwards  ;  of  which  no  mention  occurs  again  in  any  one  of 
his  writings ;  and  of  which,  in  common  with  all  the  other  details 
in  the  pamphlet,  he  expressly  declared  that  he  was  far  from  pro- 
posing any  thing  with  "  equal  confidence  to  that  with  which  he 
maintained  the  principles  themselves  ;"  and  that  he  "  was  not  anx- 
ious about  any  particular  measure  which  he  may  have  ventured  to 
recommend,  if  any  thing  could  be  suggested  by  others  which  would 
effect  the  same  great  object  of  comprehension  more  completely." 
(Preface  to  Principles  of  Church  Reform,  p.  iv.) 

But,  independently  of  the  actual  matter  of  the  Pamphlet,  its 
publication  was  the  signal  for  the  general  explosion  of  the  large 
amount  of  apprehension  or  suspicion,  which  had  been  in  so  many 
minds  contracted  against  him  since  he  became  known  to  the  public 
— amongst  ordinary  men,  from  his  Pamphlet  on  the  Roman  Catholic 
claims — amongst  more  thinking  men,  from  his  Essay  on  the  Inter- 
pretation of  Scripture — amongst  men  in  general,  from  the  union  of 
undefined  fear  and  dislike,  which  is  almost  sure  to  be  inspired  by 
the  unwelcome  presence  of  a  man  who  has  resolution  to  propose, 
earnestness  to  attempt,  and  energy  to  effect,  any  great  change  either 
in  public  opinion  or  in  existing  institutions.  The  storm,  which  had 
thus  been  gathering  for  some  time  past,  now  burst  upon  him. — be- 
ginning in  theological  and  political  opposition,  but  gradually  in- 
cluding within  its  sweep  every  topic,  personal  or  professional,  which 
could  expose  him  to  obloquy, — and  continued  to  rage  for  the  next 
four  years  of  his  life.  The  neighbouring  county  paper  maintained 
an  almost  weekly  attack  upon  him ;  the  more  extreme  of  the  Lon- 
don Conservative  newspapers  echoed  these  attacks  with  additions 
of  their  own;  the  official  dinner  which  usually  accompanied  the 
Easter  speeches  at  Rugby  was,  on  one  occasion,  turned  into  a 
scene  of  uproar  by  the  endeavour  to  introduce  into  it  political 
toasts  ;  in  the  University  pulpit  at  Oxford,  he  was  denounced  al- 
most by  name ;  every  incautious  act  or  word  in  the  management 


208  L1FE  0F   DR-   ARNOLD. 

of  the  school,  almost  every  sickness  amongst  the  boys,  was  eagerly 
used  as  a  handle  against  him.  Charges  which,  in  ordinary  cases, 
would  have  passed  by  unnoticed,  fell  with  double  force  on  a  man 
already  marked  out  for  public  odium ;  persons,  who  naturally 
would  have  been  the  last  to  suspect  him,  took  up  and  repeated  al- 
most involuntarily  the  invectives  which  they  heard  reverberated 
around  them  in  all  directions  ;  the  opponents  of  any  new  system 
of  education  were  ready  to  assail  every  change  which  he  had 
introduced ;  the  opponents  of  the  old  discipline  of  public  schools 
were  ready  to  assail  every  support  which  he  gave  to  it ;  the  gene- 
ral sale  of  his  Sermons  was  almost  stopped  ;  even  his  personal  ac- 
quaintance began  to  look  upon  him  with  alarm,  some  dropped  their 
intercourse  with  him  altogether,  hardly  any  were  able  fully  to  sym- 
pathize with  him,  and  almost  all  remonstrated. 

He  was  himself  startled,  but  not  moved,  by  this  continued  out- 
cry.    It  was  indeed,  "  nearly  the  worst  pain  which  he  had  ever 
felt,  to  see  the  impression  which  either  his  writings,  or  his  supposed 
opinions,  produced  on  those  whom  he  most  dearly  valued ;"  it  was 
"  a  trying  thing  to  one  who  held  his  own  opinions  as  strongly  as 
he  did,  to  be  taxed  continually  with  indifference  to  truth  ;"  and  at 
times  even  his  vigorous  health  and  spirits  seemed  to  fail  under  the 
sense  of  the  estrangement  of  friends,  or  yet  more,  under  his  aver- 
sion to  the  approbation  of  some  who  were  induced  by  the  clamour 
against  him  to  claim  him  as  their  own  ally.    But  the  public  attacks 
upon  himself  he  treated  with  indifference.     Those  which  related 
to  the  school  he  was  in  one  or  two  instances  at  their  outset  induced 
to  notice ;  but  he  early  formed  a  determination,  which  he  main- 
tained till  they  died  away  altogether,  never  to  offer  any  reply,  or 
even  explanation,  except  to  his  own  personal  friends.     "  My  reso- 
lution is  fixed,"  he  said,  "to  let  them  alone,  and  on  no  account  to 
condescend  to  answer  them  in  the  newspapers.     All  that  is  wanted 
is  to  inspire  firmness  into  the  minds  of  those  engaged  in  the  con- 
duct of  the  school,  lest  their  own  confidence  should  be  impaired  by 
a  succession  of  attacks,  which  I  suppose  is  unparalleled  in  the  expe- 
rience of  schools."     Nor  was  he  turned  in  the  slightest  degree  from 
his  principles.     Knowing,  from  the  example  of  other  schools,  that, 
had  he  been  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  questions  at  issue,  he  might 
have  taken  a  far  more  active  part  in  public  matters  without  pro- 
voking any  censure,  and  conscious  that  his  exertions  in  the  school 
were  as  efficient  as  ever,  he  felt  it  due  alike  to  himself,  his  princi- 
ples, and  his  position,  never  to  concede  that  he  had  acted  incon- 
sistently  with  the  duties  of  his  situation  :  and  therefore  in  the 
critical  election  of  the  winter  of  1834,  when  the  outcry  against  him 
was  at  its  height,  he  did  not  shrink  from  coming  up  from  West- 
moreland to  Warwickshire  to  vote  for  the  Liberal  candidate,  fore- 
seeing, as   he  must  have  done,  the  burst  of  indignation  which 
followed. 

And,  whilst  the  clamour  against  his  pamphlet  may  have  in- 
creased his  original  diffidence  in  the  practicability  of  its  details,  it 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  207 

only  drove  him  to  a  more  determined  examination  and  develop- 
ment of  its  principles,  which  from  this  time  forward  assumed  that 
coherent  form  which  was  the  basis  of  all  his  future  writings.  What 
he  now  conceived  and  expressed  in  a  systematic  shape,  had  indeed 
always  floated  before  him  in  a  ruder  and  more  practical  form,  and 
in  his  later  life  it  received  various  enlargements  and  modifications. 
But  in  substance,  his  opinions,  which  up  to  this  time  had  been 
forming,  were,  after  it,  formed  ;  he  had  now  reached  that  period  of 
life  after  which  any  change  of  view  is  proverbially  difficult ;  he 
had  now  arrived  at  that  stage  in  the  progress  of  his  mind,  to  which 
all  his  previous  inquiries  had  contributed,  and  from  which  all  his 
subsequent  inquiries  naturally  resulted.  His  views  of  national  ed- 
ucation became  fixed  in  the  principles  which  he  expressed  in  his 
favourite  watchwords  at  this  time,  "Christianity  without  Sectari- 
anism," and  "Comprehension  without  Compromise;"  and  which 
he  developed  at  some  length  in  an  (unpublished)  "  Letter  on  the 
Admission  of  Dissenters  to  the  Universities,"  written  in  1S34.  His 
long  cherished  views  of  the  identity  of  Church  and  State,  he  now 
first  unfolded  in  his  Postscript  to  the  pamphlet  on  "  Church  Re- 
form," and  in  the  first  of  his  fragments  on  that  subject,  written  in 
1834-35.  Against  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  profane  and  secu- 
lar view  of  the  State,  he  protested  in  the  Preface  to  his  third  Vol- 
ume of  Thucydides,  and  against  the  practical  measure  of  admitting 
Jews  to  a  share  in  the  supreme  legislature',  he  was  at  this  time  more 
than  once  on  the  point  of  petitioning,  in  his  own  sole  name.  Against 
what  he  conceived  to  be  the  ceremonial  view  of  the  Church,  and 
the  technical  and  formal  view  of  Christian  Theology,  he  protested 
in  the  Preface  and  First  Appendix  to  his  Third  Volume  of  Ser- 
mons ;  whilst  against  the  then  incipient  school  of  Oxford  Divinity. 
he  was  anxious  to  circulate  tracts  vindicating  the  King's  Supre- 
macy, and  tracing  in  its  opinions  the  Judaizing  principles  which 
prevailed  in  the  apostolical  age.  And  he  still  "dreamt  of  some-' 
thing  like  a  Magazine  for  the  poor ;  feeling  sure  from  the  abuse 
lavished  upon  him,  that  a  man  of  no  party,  as  he  has  no  chance  of 
being  listened  to  by  the  half-informed,  is  the  very  person  who  is 
wanted  to  speak  to  the  honest  uninformed." 

From  the  fermentation  against  him,  of  which  the  Midland 
counties  were  the  focus,  he  turned  with  a  new  and  increasing  de- 
light to  his  place  in  Westmoreland,  now  doubly  endeared  to  him 
as  his  natural  home,  by  its  contrast  with  the  atmosphere  of  excite- 
ment, with  which  he  was  surrounded  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Rugby.  His  more  strictly  professional  pursuits  also  went  on  un- 
disturbed ;  the  last  and  best  volume  of  his  edition  of  Thucydides 
appeared  in  1835,  and  in  1833  he  resumed  his  Roman  History, 
which  he  had  long  laid  aside.  It  might  seem  strange  that  he 
should  undertake  a  work  of  such  magnitude,  at  a  time  when  his 
chief  interest  was  more  than  ever  fixed  on  the  great  questions  of 
political  and  theological  philosophy.  His  love  for  ancient  history 
was  doubtless  in   itself  a  great  inducement  to  continue  his  con- 


203  LIFE   0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

nexion  with  it  after  his  completion  of  the  edition  of  Thucydides. 
But  basides,  and  perhaps  even  more  than  this,  was  the  strong  im- 
pression that  on  those  subjects,  which  he  himself  had  most  at 
heart,  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  bear  up  against  the  tide  of  mis- 
understanding and  prejudice  with  which  he  was  met,  and  that  all 
hope,  for  the  present,  of  direct  influence  over  his  countrymen  was 
cut  off.  His  only  choice,  therefore,  lay  in  devoting  himself  to  some 
work,  which,  whilst  it  was  more  or  less  connected  with  his  profes- 
sional pursuits,  would  afford  him  in  the  past  a  refuge  from  the  ex- 
citement and  confusion  of  the  present.  What  Fox  How  was  to 
Rugby,  that  the  Roman  History  was  to  the  painful  and  conflict- 
ing thoughts  roused  by  his  writings  on  political  and  theological 
subjects. 

But  besides  the  refreshment  of  Westmoreland  scenery  and  of 
ancient  greatness,  he  must  have  derived  a  yet  deeper  comfort  from 
his  increasing  influence  on  the  school.  Greater  as  it  probably  was 
at  a  later  period  over  the  school  generally,  yet  over  individual  boys 
it  never  was  so  great  as  at  the  period  when  the  clamour,  to  which 
he  was  exposed  from  without,  had  reached  its  highest  pitch. 
Then,  when  the  institution  seemed  most  likely  to  suffer  from  the 
unexampled  vehemence  with  which  it  was  assailed  through  him, 
b^gan  a  series  of  the  greatest  successes  at  both  Universities  which 
it  had  ever  known  ;  then,  when  he  was  most  accused  of  misgov- 
ernment  of  the  place,  he  laid  that  firm  hold  on  the  esteem  and 
affections  of  the  elder  boys,  which  he  never  afterwards  lost.  Then, 
more  than  at  any  other  time,  when  his  old  friends  and  acquaint- 
ance were  falling  back  from  him  in  alarm,  he  saw  those  growing 
up  under  his  charge  of  whom  it  may  be  truly  said,  that  they  would 
have  been  willing  to  die  for  his  sake. 

Here,  again,  the  course  of  his  Sermons  in  the  third  volume 
u-ives  us  a  faithful  transcript  of  his  feelings  ;  whilst  his  increased 
confidence  in  the  school  appears  throughout  in  the  increased  affec- 
tion of  their  tone,  the  general  subjects  which  he  then  chose  for 
publication,,  indicate  no  less  the  points  forced  upon  him  by  the  con- 
troversy for  the  last  two  years, — the  evils  of  sectarianism, — the 
necessity  of  asserting  the  authority  of  "  Law,  which  Jacobinism 
and  Fanaticism  are  alike  combining  to  destroy" — Christianity,  as 
being  the  sovereign  science  of  life  in  all  its  branches,  and  espe- 
cially in  its  aspect  of  presenting  emphatically  the  Revelation  of 
God  in  Christ.  And  in  other  parts,  it  is  impossible  to  mistake  the 
deep  personal  experience,  with  which  he  spoke  of  the  pain  of  sev- 
erance from  sympathy  and  of  the  evil  of  party  spirit ;  of  "  the 
reproach  and  suspicion  and  cold  friendship  and  zealous  enmity," 
which  is  the  portion  of  those  who  strive  to  follow  no  party  but 
Christ's — of  the  prospect  that  if  "  we  oppose  any  prevailing  opin- 
ion or  habit  of  the  day,  the  fruits  of  a  life's  labour,  as  far  as  earth 
is  concerned,  are  presently  sacrificed,"  and  "  we  are  reviled  instead 
of  respected,"  and  "every  word  and  action  of  our  lives  misrepre- 
sented and  condemned," — of  the  manner  in   which  "  the  blessed 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  209 

Apostle,  St.  Paul,  whose  name  is  now  loved  and  reverenced  from 
one  end  of  the  Church  of  Christ  to  the  other,  was  treated  by  his 
fellow  Christians  at  Rome,  as  no  better  than  a  latitudinarian  and 
a  heretic."1 


LIV.      TO    THE  REV.  J.  HEARN. 

Rydal,  January  1,  1833. 

New  Year's  day  is  in  this  part  of  the  country  regarded 

as  a  great  festival,  and  we  had  prayers  this  morning,  even  in  our  village 
chapel  at  Rydal.  May  God  bless  us  in  all  our  doings  in  the  year  that  is 
now  begun,  and  make  us  increase  more  and  more  in  the  knowledge  and  love 
of  Himself  and  of  His  Son ;  that  it  may  be  blessed  to  us,  whether  we  live 
to  see  the  end  of  it  on  earth  or  no. 

I  owe  you  very  much  for  the  great  kindness  of  your  letters,  and  thank  you 
earnestly  for  your  prayers.  Mine  is  a  busy  life,  so  busy  that  I  have  great 
need  of  not  losing  my  intervals  of  sacred  rest ;  so  taken  up  in  teaching  others, 
that  I  have  need  of  especial  prayer  and  labour  lest  I  live  with  my  own  spirit 

untaught  in  the  wisdom  of  God It  grieves  me  more  than  I 

can  say,  to  find  so  much  intolerance ;  by  which  I  mean  over-estimating  our 
points  of  difference,  and  under-estimating  our  points  of  agreement.  I  am 
by  no  means  indifferent  to  truth  and  error,  and  hold  my  own  opinions  as  de- 
cidedly as  any  man ;  which  of  course  implies  a  conviction  that  the  opposite 
opinions  are  erroneous.  In  many  cases,  I  think  them  not  only  erroneous,  but 
mischievous;  still  they  exist  in  men,  whom  I  know  to  be  thoroughly  in 
earnest,  fearing  God  and  loving  Christ,  and  it  seems  to  me  to  be  a  waste  of 
time,  which  we  can  ill  afford,  and  a  sort  of  quarrel  "  by  the  way,"  which  our 
Christian  vow  of  enmity  against  moral  evil  makes  utterly  unseasonable, 
when  Christians  suspend  their  great  business  and  loosen  the  bond  of  their 
union  with  each  other  by  venting  fruitless  regrets  and  complaints  against 
one  another's  errors,  instead  of  labouring  to  lessen  one  another's  sins.  For 
coldness  of  spirit  and  negligence  of  our  duty,  and  growing  worldliness,  are 
things  which  we  should  thank  our  friends  for  warning  us  against ;  but  when 
they  quarrel  with  our  opinions,  which  we  conscientiously  hold,  it  merely 
provokes  us  to  justify  ourselves,  and  to  insist  that  we  are  right  and  they 
wrong. 

We  arrived  here  on  Saturday,  and  on  Sunday  night  there  fell  a  deep 
snow,  which  is  now  however  melting ;  otherwise  it  would  do  more  than  any 
thing  else  to  spoil  this  unspoilable  country.  We  are  living  in  a  little  nook 
under  one  of  the  mountains,  as  snug  and  sheltered  as  can  be,  and  I  have 
got  plenty  of  work  to  do  within  doors,  let  the  snow  last  as  long  as  it  will. 


LV.      f  TO  W.  K.  HAMILTON,  ESQ. 

Rydal,  January  35,  1833. 

[After  speaking  of  his  going  to  Rome.]  It  stirs  up  many  thoughts  to 
fancy  you  at  Rome.  I  never  saw  any  place  which  so  interested  me,  and 
next  to  it,  but,  longissimo  intervallo,  Venice — then  of  the  towns  of  Italy, 
Genoa — and  then  Pisa  and  Verona.     I  cannot  care  for  Florence  or  for  Milan 

or  for  Turin For  me  this  country  contains  all  that  I  wish  or 

want,  and  no  travelling,  even  in  Italy,  could  give  me  the  delight  of  thus 
living  amidst  the  mountains,  and  seeing  and  loving  them  in  all  their  moods 
and  in  all  mine.  I  have  been  writing  on  Church  Reform,  and  urging  an 
union  with  the  Dissenters  as  the  only  thing  that  can  procure  to  us  the  bless- 

1  Sermons,  vol.  iii.  pp.  263.  363.  350. 


210  LIFE  0F   DR.  ARNOLD. 

ing  of  an  established  Christianity  ;  for  the  Dissenters  are  strong  enough  to 
turn  the  scale  either  for  an  establishment  or  against  one  ;  and  at  present  they 
are  leagued  with  the  antichristian  party  against  one,  and  will  destroy  it 
utterly  if  they  are  not  taken  into  the  camp  in  the  defence  of  it.  And  if  we 
sacrifice  that  phantom  Uniformity,  which  has  been  our  curse  ever  since  the 
Reformation,  I  am  fully  persuaded  that  an  union  might  be  effected  without 
difficulty.  But  God  knows  what  will  come  to  pass,  and  none  besides,  for  we 
all  seem  groping  about  in  the  dark  together.  I  trust,  however,  that  we  shall 
be  spared  the  worst  evil  of  all,  war. 


LVI.       TO  THE  ARCHBISHOP  OF  DUBLIN. 

Rydal,  January  17   1833. 

As  my  pamphlet  will  probably  reach  you  next  week,  I  wished 

you  to  hear  something  from  me  on  the  subject  beforehand.  My  reasons  for 
writing  it  were  chiefly  because  the  reform  proposed  by  Lord  Henley  and 
others  seemed  to  me  not  only  insufficient,  but  of  a  wrong  kind  ;  and  because 
I  have  heard  the  American  doctrine  of  every  man  paying  his  minister  as 
he  would  his  lawyer,  advanced  and  supported  in  high  quarters,  where  it 
sounded  alarming.  I  was  also  struck  by  the  great  vehemence  displayed  by 
the  Dissenters  at  the  late  elections,  and  by  the  refusal  to  pay  Church-rates 
at  Birmingham.  Nothing,  as  it  seems  to  me,  can  save  the  Church,  but  an 
union  with  the  Dissenters ;  now  they  are  leagued  with  the  antichristian  party, 
and  no  merely  internal  reforms  in  the  administration  of  the  actual  system  will, 
I  think,  or  can  satisfy  them.  Further,  Lord  Henley's  notion  about  a  convo- 
cation, and  Bishops  not  sitting  in  Parliament,  and  laymen  not  meddling  with 
Church  doctrine,  seemed  to  me  so  dangerous  a  compound  of  the  worst  errors 
of  Popery  and  Evangelicalism  combined,  and  one  so  suited  to  the  interest  of 
the  Devil  and  his  numerous  party,  that  I  was  very  desirous  of  protesting 
against  it.  However,  the  pamphlet  will  tell  its  own  story,  and  I  think  it  can 
do  no  harm,  even  if  it  does  no  good. 


LVII.      TO    THE    SAME. 

February  1,  1833. 

....  As  to  my  coming  down  into  Westmoreland,  I  may  almost  say  that 
it  is  to  satisfy  a  physical  want  in  my  nature  which  craves  after  the  enjoy- 
ment of  nature,  and  for  nine  months  in  the  year  can  find  nothing  to  satisfy 
it.  I  agree  with  old  Keble,'  that  one  does  not  need  mountains  and  lakes  for 
this ;  the  Thames  at  Laleham — Bagley  Wood  and  Shotover  at  Oxford  were 
quite  enough  for  it.  I  only  know  of  five  counties  in  England,  which  cannot 
supply  it ;  and  I  am  unluckily  perched  down  in  one  of  them.  These  five 
are  Warwick,  Northampton,  Huntingdon,  Cambridge  and  Bedford.  I  should 
add,  perhaps,  Rutland,  and  you  cannot  name  a  seventh ;  for  Suffolk,  which 
is  otherwise  just  as  bad,  has  its  bit  of  sea  coast.  But  Halesworth,  so  far  as 
I  remember  it,  would  be  just  as  bad  as  Rugby.  We  have  no  hills — no  plains 
— not  a  single  wood,  and  but  one  single  copse :  no  heath — no  down — no  rock 
— no  river — no  clear  stream — scarcely  any  flowers,  for  the  lias  is  particularly 
poor  in  them — nothing  but  one  endless  monotony  of  inclosed  fields  and 
hedge-row  trees.  This  is  to  me  a  daily  privation ;  it  robs  me  of  what  ia 
naturally  my  anti-attrition ;  and,  as  I  grow  older,  I  begin  to  feel  it.  My  con- 
stitution is  sound,  but  not  strong ;  and  I  feel  any  little  pressure  or  annoyance 
more  than  I  used  to  do :  and  the  positive  dulness  of  the  country  about  Rugby 

1  Christian  Year,  First  Sunday  after  Epiphany. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  2H 

makes  it  to  me  a  mere  working  place  ;  I  cannot  expatiate  there  even  in  my 
walks.  So,  in  the  holidays,  I.  have  an  absolute  craving  for  the  enjoyment  of 
nature,  and  this  country  suits  me  better  than  any  thing  else,  because  we  can 
be  all  together,  because  we  can  enjoy  the  society,  and  because  I  can  do 

something  in  the  way  of  work  besides 

Two  things  press  upon  me  unabatedly — my  wish  for  a  Bible,  such  as  I 
have  spoken  of  before ;  and  my  wish  for  something  systematic  for  the  in- 
struction of  the  poor.  In  my  particular  case,  undoubtedly,  the  Stamp  duties 
are  an  evil ;  for  I  still  think,  that  a  newspaper  alone  can  help  to  cure  the 
evil  which  newspapers  have  done  and  are  doing;  the  events  of  the  day  are 
a  definite  subject,  to  which  instruction  can  be  attached  in  the  best  possible 
manner ;  the  Penny  and  Saturday  Magazines  are  all  ramble-scramble.  1 
think  often  of  a  Warwickshire  Magazine,  to  appear  monthly,  and  so  escape 
the  Stamp  Duties,  whilst  events  at  a  month's  end  are  still  fresh  enough  to 
interest.  We  ought  to  have,  in  Birmingham  and  Coventry,  good  and  able 
men  enough,  and  with  sufficient  variety  of  knowledge  for  such  a  work.  But 
between  the  want  of  will  and  the  want  of  power,  the  ten  who  were  vainly 
sought  to  save  Sodom,  will  be  as  vainly  sought  for  now. 


LVIII.      TO    REV   J.  TUCKER. 

(On  his  leaving  England  for  India;  as  a  Missionary.) 

February,  1833. 

[After  speaking  of  the  differences  of  tastes  and  habits  which  had  inter- 
fered with  their  having  common  subjects  of  interest.] It 

is  my  joy  to  think  that  there  will  be  a  day  when  these  things  will  all  vanish 
in  the  intense  consciousness  of  what  we  both  have  in  common.  I  owe  you 
much  more  than  I  can  well  pay,  indeed,  for  your  influence  on  my  mind  and 
character  in  early  life.  The  freshness  of  our  Oxford  life  is  continually  pre- 
sent with  me,  and  especially  of  the  latter  part  of  it.  How  well  I  recollect 
when  you  and  Cornish  did  duty  for  your  first  time  at  Begbrooke  and  Yarn- 
ton,  and  when  we  had  one  of  our  last  skirmishes  together  in  a  walk  to  Gar- 
sington  in  March,  1819.  All  that  period  was  working  for  me  constantgood, 
and  how  delightful  is  it  to  have  our  University  recollections  so  free  from  the 
fever  of  intellectual  competition  or  parties  or  jealousies  of  any  kind  what- 
ever. I  love  also  to  think  of  our  happy  meeting  in  later  life,  when  Cornish 
and  I,  with  our  wives  and  children,  were  with  you  at  Mailing,  in  1823. 

Mean  time,  even  in  a'temporal  point  of  view,  you  are 

going  from  what  bids  fair.  I  fear,  to  deserve,  the  name  of  a  City  of  Destruc- 
tion. The  state  of  Europe  is  indeed  fearful;  and  that  of  England,  I  verily 
think,  worst  of  all.  What  is  coming,  none  can  foresee,  but  every  symptom 
is  alarming ;  above  all,  the  extraordinary  dearth  of  men  professing  to  act 
in  the  fear  of  God,  and  not  being  fanatics ;  as  parties,  the  High  Churchmen, 
the  Evangelicals,  and  the  Dissenters  seem  to  me  almost  equally  bad,  and 
how  many  good  men  can  be  found  who  do  not  belong  to  one  of  them  ? 

Your  godson  is  now  turned  of  ten  years  old,  and  I  think  of  keeping  him 

at  home  some  time  to  familiarize  him  with  home  feelings 

I  am  sure  that  we  shall  have  your  prayers  for  his  bringing  forth  fruit  unto 

life  eternal And  now  farewell,  my  dear  friend  ;  may  God 

be  with  you  always  through  Jesus  Christ,  and  may  He  bless  all  your  works 
to  His  glory  and  your  own  salvation.  You  will  carry  with  you,  as  long  as 
you  live,  my  most  affectionate  and  grateful  remembrances,  and  my  earnest 
wishes  for  all  good  to  you,  temporal  and  spiritual. 


212  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

LIX.      TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL    AT    OXFORD.'    (a.) 

February  25,  1833. 

It  always  grieves  me  to  hear  that  a  man  does  not  like  Oxford.  I  was  so 
happy  there  myself,  and  above  all  so  happy  in  my  friends,  that  its  associa- 
tions to  my  mind  are  purely  delightful.  But,  of  course,  in  this  respect,  every 
thing  depends  upon  the  society  you  fall  into.  If  this  be  uncongenial,  the 
place  can  have  no  other  attractions  than  those  of  a  town  full  of  good  libra- 
ries. 

The  more  we  are  destitute  of  opportunities  for  indulging 

our  feelings,  as  is  the  case  when  we  live  in  uncongenial  society,  the  more  we 
are  apt  to  crisp  and  harden  our  outward  manner  to  save  our  real  feelings 
from  exposure.  Thus  I  believe  that  some  of  the  most  delicate-minded  men 
get  to  appear  actually  coarse  from  their  unsuccessful  efforts  to  mask  their 
real  nature.  And  I  have  known  men  disagreeably  forward  from  their  shy- 
ness. But  I  doubt  whether  a  man  does  not  suffer  from  a  habit  of  self-con- 
straint, and  whether  his  feelings  do  not  become  really,  as  well  as  apparently, 
chilled.  It  is  an  immense  blessing  to  be  perfectly  callous  to  ridicule ;  or, 
which  comes  to  the  same  thing,  to  be  conscious  thoroughly  that  what  we 
have  in  us  of  noble  and  delicate  is  not  ridiculous  to  any  but  fools,  and  that, 
if  fools  will  laugh,  wise  men  will  do  well  to  let  them. 

I  shall  really  be  very  glad  to  hear  from  you  at  any  time,  and  I  will  write 
to  the~  best  of  my  power  on  any  subject  on  which  you  want  to  know  my 
opinion.  As  for  any  thing  more,  I  believe  that  the  one  great  lesson  for  us 
all  is,  that  we  should  daily  pray  for  an  "  increase  of  faith."  There  is 
enough  of  iniquity  abounding  to  make  our  love  in  danger  of  waxing  cold  ; 
it  is  well  said,  therefore,  "Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled;  ye  believe  in 
God,  believe  also  in  Me."  By  which  I  understand  that  it  is  not  so  much 
general  notions  of  Providence  which  are  our  best  support,  but  a  sense  of 
the  personal  interest,  if  I  may  so  speak,  taken  in  our  welfare  by  Him  who 
died  for  us  and  rose  again.  May  His  Spirit  strengthen  us  to  do  His  will, 
and  to  bear  it,  in  power,  in  love,  and  in  wisdom.     God  bless  you. 


LX.       TO    THE    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Rugby,  March  5,  1833. 

[After  speaking  of  a  parcel  sent  to  him.]  I  will  not  conceal,  however, 
that  my  motive  in  writing  to  you  immediately  is  to  notice  what  you  say  of 
my  pamphlet  on  Church  Reform.  I  did  not  send  it  you  for  two  reasons  ; 
first,  because  I  feared  that  you  would  not  like  it;  secondly,  because  a  pam- 
phlet in  general  is  not  worth  the  carriage.  And  I  should  be  ashamed  of 
myself  if  I  were  annoyed  by  your  expressing  your  total  disagreement  with 
its  principles  or  with  its  conclusions.  But  I  do  protest  most  strongly  against 
your  charge  of  writing  "with  haste  and  without  consideration ;"  of  writ- 
ing "  on  subjects  which  I  have  not  studied  and^do  not  understand,"  and 
"  which  are  not  within  my  proper  province."  You  cannot  possibly  know 
that  I  wrote  in  haste,  or  that  I  have  not  studied  the  question ;  and  I  think, 
however  much  I  might  differ  from  any  opinion  of  yours,  I  should  scarcely 
venture  to  say  that  you  had  written  on  what  you  did  not  understand.     I 

regret  exceedingly  the  use  of  this  kind  of  language  in  Oxford,  (for 

wrote  to  me  exactly  in  the  same  strain,)  because  it  seems  to  me  to  indicate 
a  temper,  not  the  best  suited  either  to  the  state  of  knowledge  or  of  feeling 
in  other  parts  of  the  kingdom.     It  so  happens  that  the  subject  of  conformity, 

1  The  letters  of  the  alphabet  thus  affixed  are  intended  to  distinguish  between  the  dif- 
ferent pupils  so  addressed. 


LIFE    OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  213 

of  communion,  of  the  relations  of  Church  and  State,  of  Church  Govern- 
ment, &c,  is  one  which  I  have  studied  more  than  any  other  which  I  could 
name.  I  have  read  very  largely  about  it,  and  thought  about  it  habitually 
for  several  years,  and  I  must  say,  that  sixteen  or  seventeen  years  ago,  I  had 
read  enough  of  what  were  called  orthodox  books  upon  such  matters,  to  be 
satisfied  of  their  shallowness  and  confusion.  I  do  not  quarrel  with  you  for 
coming  to  a  different  conclusion,  but  I  do  utterly  deny  that  you  are  entitled 
to  tax  me  with  not  being  just  as  qualified  as  yourself  to  form  a  conclu- 
sion. I  do  not  know  that  it  gives  me  much  pain,  when  my  friends  write 
what  I  do  not  like ;  for  so  long  as  I  believe  them  to  be  honest,  I  do  not  think 
that  they  will  be  the  worse  for  it ;  but  assuredly  my  convictions  of  the  utter 
falsehood  and  mischievous  tendency  of  their  opinions  are  quite  as  strong  as 
theirs  can  be  of  mine  ;  though  I  do  not  expect  to  convert  them  to  my  own 
views  for  many  reasons.  As  to  the  pamphlet,  I  am  now  writing  a  Postscript 
for  the  fourth  edition  of  it,  with  some  quotations  in  justification  of  some  of 

my   positions If   any  respectable   man  of  my  own  age 

chooses  to  attack  my  principles,  I  am  perfectly  ready  to  meet  him,  and  he 
shall  see  at  any  rate  whether  I  have  studied  the  question  or  no.  I  wish  that 
I  knew  as  much  about  Thucydides,  which  you  think  that  I  do  understand. 

I  hope  that  I  have  expressed  myself  clearly.  I  complain  merely  of  the 
charge  of  writing  hastily  on  a  subject  which  I  have  not  studied.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  it  is  most  opposite  to  the  truth.  But  if  you  say  that  you  think 
I  have  studied  it  to  very  bad  purpose,  and  am  all  wrong  about  it,  I  have  only 
to  say,  that  I  think  differently  ;  but  I  should  not  in  the  least  complain  of  your 
giving  me  your  own  opinion  in  the  plainest  terms  that  you  chose. 


LXI.       TO    THE    SAME. 

Rugby,  March  10,  1833. 

I  thank  you  entirely  for  your  last  letter;  it  is  at  once  kind  and  manly,  and 
I  much  value  your  notice  of  particular  points  in  the  Pamphlet  which  you 
think  wrong.  It  is  very  true  that  it  was  written  hastily,  i.  e.  penned,  for  the 
time  was  short ;  but  it  is  no  less  true  that  the  matter  of  it,  as  far  as  its  gen- 
eral principles  are  concerned,  had  been  thought  over  in  my  mind  again  and 
again.  In  fact,  my  difficulty  was  how  to  write  sufficiently  briefly,  for  I  have 
matter  enough  to  fill  a  volume ;  and  some  of  the  propositions,  which  I  have 
heard  objected  to,  as  thrown  out  at  random,  are  to  my  own  mind  the  results 
of  a  very  full  consideration  of  the  case ;  although  I  have  contented  myself 
with  putting  down  the  conclusion,  and  omitting  the  premises.  [After  an- 
awering  a  question  of  history.]  I  fear,  indeed,  that  our  differences  of  opin- 
ion on  many  points  of  which  I  have  written  must  be  exceedingly  wide.  I 
am  conscious  that  I  have  a  great  deal  to  learn  ;  and,  if  I  live  ten  years  more, 
I  hope  I  shall  be  wiser  than  I  am  now.  Still  I  am  not  a  boy,  nor  do  I  believe 
that  any  one  of  my  friends  has  arrived  at  his  opinions  with  more  deliberation 
and  deeper  thought  than  I  have  at  mine.  And  you  should  remember,  that  if 
many  of  my  notions  indicate  in  your  judgment  an  imperfect  acquaintance  with 
the  subject,  this  is  exactly  the  impression  which  the  opposite  notions  leave 
on  my  mind ;  and,  as  I  know  it  to  be  quite  possible  that  a  conclusion,  which 
seems  to  me  mere  folly  and  ignorance,  may  really  rest  on  some  proof,  of 
which  I  am  wholly  ignorant,  and  which  to  the  writer's  mind  may  have  been 
so  familiar  from  long  habit  as  to  seem  quite  superfluous  to  be  stated — so  it  is 
equally  possible,  that  what  appears  folly  or  ignorance  to  you,  may  also  be 
justified  by  a  view  of  the  question  which  has  escaped  your  notice,  and  which 
I  may  happen  to  have  hit  upon. 

Undoubtedly  I  should  think  it  wrong  to  write  on  any  subject,  and  much 
more  such  a  subject  as  the  Church,  without  having  considered  it.  It  can 
hardly  be  an  honest  opinion,  if  it  be  expressed  confidently,  without  a  con- 


214  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

sciousness  of  having  sufficient  reason  for  it.  And  though  on  subjects  within 
the  reach  of  our  faculties,  sufficient  consideration,  in  the  strict  sense,  must 
preclude  error,  (for  all  error  must  arise  either  from  some  premises  being  un- 
known, or  from  some  faulty  conclusion  being  derived  from  those  which  we  do 
know,)  yet  of  course  for  our  moral  justification,  it  is  sufficient  that  we  have 
considered  it  as  well  as  we  could,  and  so,  that  we  seem  to  have  a  competent 
understanding  of  it  compared  with  other  men — to  be  able  to  communicate 
some  truth  to  others,  while  we  receive  truths  from  them  in  return. 

But  my  main  object  in  writing  was  to  thank  you  for  your  letter,  and  to 
assure  you  that  my  feeling  of  anger  is  quite  subsided,  if  anger  it  could  be 
called.  Yet  I  think  I  had  a  right  to  complain  of  the  tone  of  decided  con- 
demnation which  ran  through  your  first  letter,  assuming  that  I  had  written 
without  reflection  and  without  study,  because  my  notions  were  different  from 
yours ;  and  I  think  that,  had  I  applied  similar  expressions  to  any  work  of 
yours,  you  would  have  been  annoyed  as  much  as  I  was,  and  have  thought 
that  I  had  judged  you  rather  unfairly.  But  enough  of  this:  and  I  will  only 
hope  that  my°next  work,  if  ever  I  live  to  write  another,  may  please  you 
better. 


LXII.      TO    WILLIAM    SMITH,    ESQ.,    FORMERLY    M.    P.    FOR    NORWICH. 

(In  answer  to  a  letter  on  the  subject  of  his  pamphlet,  particularly  objecting  to  his  making  it  essential 
to  those  included  in  his  scheme  of  comprehension,  that  they  should  address  Christ  as  an  object  of  wor- 
ship.) 

Rugby,  March  9,  1833. 

I  trust  you  will  not  ascribe  it  to  neglect,  that  I  have  not  returned  an  ear- 
lier answer  to  your  letter.  My  time  has  been  very  much  occupied,  and  I 
did  not  wish  to  write,  till  I  could  command  leisure  to  write  as  fully  as  the 
purport  and  tone  of  your  letter  required. 

I  cannot  be  mistaken,  I  think,  in  concluding  that  I  have  the  honour  of 
addressing  Mr.  Smith,  who  was  so  long  the  Member  for  Norwich,  and  whose 
name  must  be  perfectly  familiar  to  any  one  who  has  been  accustomed  to  fol- 
low the  proceedings  of  Parliament. 

The  passage  in  my  Pamphlet  to  which  you  allude  is  expressly  limited  to 
the  case  of  "  the  Unitarians  preserving  exactly  their  present  character ;" 
that  is,  as  appears  by  a  comparison  with  what  follows,  (p.  36,)  their  includ- 
ing many  who  "  call  themselves  Unitarians,  because  the  name  of  unbe- 
liever is  not  yet  thought  creditable."  And  these  persons  are  expressly  dis- 
tinguished from  those  other  Unitarians  whom  I  speak  of  "  as  really  Chris- 
tians." In  giving  or  withholding  the  title  of  Christian,  I  was  much  more 
influenced  by  the  spirit  and  temper  of  the  parties  alluded  to  than  by  their 
doctrinal  opinions.  For  instance,  my  dislike  to  the  works  of  the  late  Mr. 
Belsham  arises  more  from  what  appears  to  me  their  totally  unchristian  tone, 
meaning  particularly  their  want  of  that  devotion,  reverence,  love  of  holiness, 
and  dread  of  sin  which  breathes  through  the  Apostolical  writings,  than  from 
the  mere  opinions  contained  in  them,  utterly  erroneous  as  I  believe  them  to 
be.  And  this  was  my  reason  for  laying  particular  stress  on  the  worship  of 
Christ ;  because  it  appears  to  me  that  the  feelings  with  which  we  regard 
Him  are  of  much  greater  importance,  than  such  metaphysical  questions  as 
those  between  Homoousians  and  Homoiousians,  or  even  than  the  question  of 
His  humanity  or  proper  divinity. 

My  great  objection  to  Unitarianism  in  its  present  form  in  England,  where 
it  is  professed  sincerely,  is  that  it  makes  Christ  virtually  dead.  Our  relation 
to  Him  is  past  instead  of  present ;  and  the  result  is  notorious,  that  instead  of 
doing  every  thing  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  the  language  of  Unitari- 
ans loses  this  peculiarly  Christian  character,  and  assimilates  to  that  of  mere 
Deists;  "  Providence,"""  the  Supreme  Being."  and  other  such  expressions 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  215 

taking  the  place  of  "  God,  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  "  the  Lord," 
&c,  which  other  Christians,  like  the  Apostles,  have  found  at  once  most  nat- 
ural to  them,  and  most  delightful.  For  my  own  part,  considering  one  great 
object  of  God's  revealing  Himself  in  the  Person  of  Christ  to  be  the  furnishing 
us  with  an  object  of  worship  which  we  could  at  once  love  and  understand  ; 
or,  in  other  words,  the  supplying  safely  and  wholesomely  that  want  in  human 
nature,  which  has  shown  itself  in  false  religions,  in  "  making  gods  after  our 
own  devices,"  it  does  seem  to  me  to  be  forfeiting  the  peculiar  benefits  thus 
offered,  if  we  persist  in  attempting  to  approach  to  God  in  His  oAvn  incompre- 
hensible essence,  which  as  no  man  hath  seen  or  can  see,  so  no  man  can  con- 
ceive it.  And,  while  I  am  most  ready  to  allow  the  provoking  and  most  ill- 
judged  language  in  which  the  truth,  as  I  hold  it  to  be,  respecting  God  has 
been  expressed  by  Trinitarians,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  I  am  inclined  to  think 
that  Unitarians  have  deceived  themselves  by  fancying  that  they  could  un- 
derstand the  notion  of  one  God  any  better  than  that  of  God  in  Christ : 
whereas,  it  seems  to  me,  that  it  is  only  of  God  in  Christ  that  I  can  in  my 
present  state  of  being  conceive  any  thing  at  all.  To  know  God  the  Father, 
that*  is,  God  as  He  is  in  Himself,  in  His  to  us  incomprehensible  essence, 
seems  the  great  and  most  blessed' promise  reserved  for  us  when  this  mortal 
shall  have  put  on  immortality. 

You  will  forgive  me  for  writing  in  this  language  ;  but  I  could  not  other- 
wise well  express  what  it  was,  which  I  consider  such  a  departure  from  the 
spirit  of  Christianity  in  modern  Unitarianism.  Will  you  forgive  me  also  for 
expressing  my  belief  and  fervent  hope,  that  if  we  could  get  rid  of  the  Anthan- 
asian  Creed,  and  of  some  other  instances  of  what  I  would  call  the  technical 
language  of  Trinitarianism,  many  good  Unitarians  would  have  a  stumbling- 
block  removed  out  of  their  path,  and  would  join  their  fellow  Christians  in 
bowing  the  knee  to  Him  who  is  Lord  both  of  the  dead  and  the  living. 

But  whatever  they  may  think  of  His  nature,  I  never  meant  to  deny  the 
name  of  Christian  to  those  who  truly  love  and  fear  Him ;  and  though  I  think 
it  is  the  tendency  of  Unitarianism  to  lessen  this  love  and  fear,  yet  I  doubt 
not  that  many  Uuitarians  feel  it  notwithstanding,  and  then  He  is  their  Sa- 
viour, and  they  are  His  people. 


LXIII.      TO    THE    CHEVALIER    BUNSEN. 

Rugby,  May  6,  1833. 

I  thank  you  most  heartily  for  two  most  delightful  letters.  They  both 
make  me  feel  more  ardently  the  wish  that  I  could  see  you  once  again,  and 
talk  over  instead  of  write  the  many  important  subjects  which  interest  us 
both,  and  not  us  only,  but  all  the  world 

First,  as  to  our  politics.  I  detest  as  cordially  as  you  can  do  the  party  of 
the  "Movement,"  both  in  France  and  England.  I  detest  Jacobinism  in  its 
root  and  in  its  branches,  with  all  that  godless  Utilitarianism,  which  is  its  fa- 
vourite aspect  at  this  moment  in  England.  Nothing  within  my  knowledge 
is  more  utterly  wicked  than  the  party  of  .  .  .  men  who,  fairly  and  lite- 
rally, as  I  fear,  blaspheme  not  the  Son  of  Man,  but  the  Spirit  of  God ;  they 
hate  Christ,  because  He  is  of  heaven  and  they  are  of  evil. 

For  the  more  vulgar  form  of  our  popular  party,  the  total  ignorance  of,  and 
indifference  to,  all  principle  ;  the  mere  money-getting  and  money-saving  self- 
ishness which  cries  aloud  for  cheap  government,  making,  as  it  were,  avrb  roe- 
yaObv  to  consist  in  cheapness — my  feeling  is  one  of  extreme  contempt  and 
disgust.  My  only  difference  from  you,  so  far  as  I  see,  regards  our  anti-re- 
formers, or  rather  the  Tory  party  in  general  in  England.  Now,  undoubt- 
edly, some  of  the  very  best  and  wisest  men  in  the  country  have  on  the  Re- 
form question  joined  this  party,  but  they  are  as  Falkland  was  at  Oxford — 


2)6  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

had  their  party  triumphed,  they  would  have  been  the  first  to  lament  the  vic- 
tory ;  for,  not  they  would  have  influenced  the  measures  carried  into  effect — 
but  the  worst  and  most  selfish  part  of  our  aristocracy,  with  the  coarsest  and 
most  profligate  of  their  dependents,  men  like  the  Hortensii,  and  Lentuli. 
and  Claudii  of  the  Roman  Civil  wars,  who  thwarted  Pompey,  insulted  Ci- 
cero, and  ground  down  the  provinces  with  their  insolence  and  tyranny ; 
men  so  hateful  and  so  contemptible,  that  I  verily  believe  that  the  victory  of 
Caesar,  nay  even  of  Augustus,  was  a  less  evil  to  the  human  race  than  would 
have  resulted  from  the  triumph  of  the  aristocracy. 

And,  as  I  feel  that,  of  the  two  besetting  sins  of  human  nature,  selfish 
neglect  and  selfish  agitation,  the  former  is  the  more  common,  and  has  in  the 
long  run  done  far  more  harm  than  the  latter,  although  the  outbreaks  of  the 
latter,  while  they  last,  are  of  a  far  more  atrocious  character ;  so  I  have  in  a 
manner  vowed  to  myself,  and  prayed  that,  with  God's  blessing,  no  excesses 
of  popular  wickedness,  though  I  should  be  myself,  as  I  expect,  the  victim  of 
them,  no  temporary  evils  produced  by  revolution,  shall  ever  make  me  forget 
the  wickedness  of  Toryism, — of  that  spirit  which  has  throughout  the  long 
experience  of  all  history  continually  thwarted  the  cause  of  God  and  good- 
ness   and   has   gone  on   abusing   its   opportunities,  and  heaping 

up  wrath  by  a  long  series  of  selfish  neglect  against  the  day  of  wrath  and 
judgment. 

Again,  I  feel  that  while  I  agree  with  you  wholly  and  most  heartily  in 
my  abhorrence  of  the  spirit  of  1789,  of  the  American  war,  of  the  French 
Economistes,  and  of  the  English  Whigs  of  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth 
century  and  beginning  of  the  eighteenth,  yet  I  have  always  been  unable  to 
sympathize  with  what  you  call  "  the  historical  liberty"  which  grew  out  of 
the  system  of  the  middle  ages.  For,  not  to  speak  of  the  unhappy  extinction 
of  that  liberty  in  many  countries  of  Europe,  even  in  England  it  showed  itself 
to  have  been  more  the  child  of  accident  than  of  principle ;  and  throughout 
the  momentous  period  of  the  eighteenth  century,  this  character  of  it  was 
fatally  developed.  For,  not  ascending  to  general  principles,  it  foresaw  not 
the  evil,  till  it  became  too  mature  to  be  remedied,  and  the  state  of  the  poor 
and  that  of  the  Church,  are  melancholy  proofs  of  the  folly  of  what  is  called 
"letting  well  alone;"  which,  not  watching  for  symptoms,  nor  endeavouring 
to  meet  the  coming  danger,  allows  the  fuel  of  disease  to  accumulate  in  the 
unhealthy  body,  till,  at  last,  the  sickness  strikes  it  with  the  suddenness  and 
malignity  of  an  incurable  pestilence.  But,  when  the  cup  is  nearly  full,  and 
revolutions  are  abroad,  it  is  a  sign  infallible  that  the  old  state  of  things  is 
ready  to  vanish  away.  Its  race  is  run,  and  no  human  power  can  preserve 
it.  But  by  attempting  to  preserve  it,  you  derange  the  process  of  the  new 
birth  which  must  succeed  it ;  and  whilst  the  old  perishes  in  spite  of  your 
efforts,  you  get  a  monstrous  and  misshapen  creature  in  its  place  ;  when  had 
the  birth  been  quietly  effected,  its  proportions  might  have  been  better,  and 
its  inward  constitution  sounder  and  less  irritable. 

What  our  birth  in  England  is  likely  to  end  in,  is  indeed  a  hard  question. 
I  believe  that  our  only  chance  is  in  the  stability  of  the  present  ministers.  I 
am  well  aware  of  their  faults ;  but  still  they  keep  out  the  Tories  and  the 
Radicals,  the  Red  Jacobins  of  1794  and  the  White  Jacobins  of  1795,  or  of 
Naples  in  1799, — alike  detestable.  I  do  not  think  that  you  can  fully  judge 
of  what  the  ascendency  of  the  Tories  is ;  it  is  not  the  Duke  of  Wellington 
or  Sir  R.  Peel  who  would  do  harm,  but  the  base  party  that  they  would  bring 

in  their  train, and  all  the  tribe  of  selfish  and  ignorant  lords 

and  country  squires  and  clergymen,  who  would  irritate  the  feeling  of  the 
people  to  madness. 

If  you  see  my  Pamphlet  and  Postscript,  you  will  see  that  I 

have  kept  clear  of  the  mere  secular  questions  of  tithes  and  pluralities,  and 
have  argued  for  a  comprehension  on  higher  grounds.  I  dislike  Articles  be- 
cause they  represent  truth  untruly,  that  is,  in  an  unedifying  manner,  and 
thus  robbed  of  its  living  truth,  Avhilst  it  retains  its  mere  literal  form  ;  whereas 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  2J7 

the  same  truth,  embodied  in  prayers,  or  confessions,  or  even  in  catechisms, 
becomes  more  Christian,  just  in  proportion  as  it  is  less  theological.  But  I 
fear  that  our  reforms,  instead  of  labouring  to  unite  the  Dissenters  with  the 
Church,  will  confirm  their  separate  existence  by  relieving  them  from  all 
which  they  now  complain  of  as  a  burden.  And  continuing  distinct  from 
the  Church,  will  they  not  labour  to  effect  its  overthrow,  till  they  bring  us 
quite  to  the  American  platform  ? 


LXIV.      TO    THE    ARCHBISHOP     OF    DUBLIN. 

Rugby,  May  21,  1833. 

It  is  painful  to  think  that  these  exaggerations,  in  too 

many  instances,  cannot  be  innocent;  in  Oxford  there  is  an  absolute  iQya- 

arroiov  xpevdwv,  whose  activity  is  surprising I  do  hope,  that  we  shall 

see  you  all  next  month.  When  I  am  not  so  strong  as  usual,  I  feel  the  vexa- 
tion of  the  school  more  than  I  could  wish  to  do And  I  have  also 

been  annoyed  at  the  feeling  excited  in  some  of  my  old  friends  by  my  pam- 
phlet, and  by  the  constant  and  persevering  falsehoods  which  are  circulated 

concerning  my  opinions  and  my  practice Thucydides  creeps  on 

slowly,  and  nothing  else,  save  my  school  work,  gets  on  at  all.  I  do  confess, 
that  I  feel  now  more  anxious  than  I  used  to  do  to  get  time  to  write,  and 
especially  to  write  history.     But  this  will  not  be. 


LXV.      TO    REV.    J.    HEARN. 

Rugby,  May  29,  1833. 

I  do  not  know  whether  you  have  ever  felt  the  intense  diffi- 
culty of  expressing  in  any  other  language  the  impression,  which  the  Scrip- 
ture statement  of  any  great  doctrine  has  left  on  your  own  mind.  It  has 
grieved  me  much  to  find  that  some  of  my  own  friends,  whilst  they  acquit  me 
of  any  such  intention,  consider  the  tendency  of  my  Church  Reform  plan  as 
latitndinarian  in  point  of  doctrine.  Now  my  belief  is,  that  it  would  have 
precisely  the  contrary  effect,  and  would  tend  ultimately  to  a  much  greater 
unity  and  strictness  in  true  doctrine ;  that  is  to  say,  in  those  views  of  God's 
dealings  and  dispositions  towards  us,  and  of  our  consequent  duties  towards 
Him,  which  constitute,  I  imagine,  the  essence  of  the  Gospel  Revelation. 
Now,  what  I  want  is,  to  abstract  from  what  is  commonly  called  doctrine 
every  thing  which  is  not  of  this  kind ;  and  secondly,  for  what  is  of  this  kind, 
to  present  it  only  so  far  forth  as  it  is  so,  dropping  all  deductions  which  we 
conceive  may  be  drawn  from  it,  regarded  as  a  naked  truth,  but  which  cannot 
be  drawn  from  it,  when  regarded  as  a  Divine  practical  lesson. 

For  instance,  it  is  common  to  derive  from  our  Lord's  words  to  Nicodemus, 
"  Except  a  man  be  born  of  water,"  &c,  an  universal  proposition,  "  No 
being  can  be  saved  ordinarily  without  baptism  ;"  and  then  to  prove  the  fit- 
ness of  baptizing  infants,  for  this  reason,  as  necessary,  out  of  charity  to 
them ;  whereas  our  Lord's  words  are  surely  only  for  those  who  can  under- 
stand them.  Take  any  person  with  the  use  of  his  faculties,  and  therefore 
the  consciousness  of  sin  in  his  own  heart,  and  say  to  him,  that  "  Except  he 
be  born  again,"  &c,  and  then  you  apply  Christ's  word  in  its  true  meaning, 
to  arouse  men's  consciences,  and  make  them  see  that  their  evil  and  corrupt 
nature  can  of  itself  end  only  in  evil.  But  when  we  apply  it  universally  as 
an  abstract  truth,  and  form  conclusions  from  it,  those  conclusions  are  fre- 
quently either  uncharitable  or  superstitious,  or  both.  It  was  uncharitable 
when  men  argued,  though  correctly  enough  as  to  logic,  that,  if  no  man 
could  be  saved  without  baptism,  all  the  heathen  must  have  perished;  and  it 

15 


213  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

was  uncharitable  and  superstitious  too,  to  argue,  as  Cranmer,  that  unbap- 
tized  infants  must  perish ;  but  that,  if  baptized,  they  were  instantly  safe. 
Now,  I  hold  it  to  be  a  most  certain  rule  of  interpreting  Scripture,  that  it 
never  speaks  of  persons,  when  there  is  a  physical  impossibility  of  its  speak- 
ing to  them ;  but  so  soon  as  the  mind  opens  and  understands  the  word,  then 
the  word  belongs  to  it,  and  then  the  truth  is  his  in  all  its  fulness  ;  that  "  ex- 
cept he  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God."  So  the  heathen 
who  died  before  the  word  was  spoken,  and  in  whose  land  it  has  never  been 
preached,  are  dead  to  the  word, — it  concerns  not  them  at  all;  but  the  moment 
it  can  reach  them,  then  it  is  theirs  and  for  them  ;  and  we  are  bound  to  spread 
it,  not  from  general  considerations  of  their  fate  without,  it,  but  because 
Christ  has  commanded  us  to  spread  it,  and  because  we  see  that  Christianity 
has  the  promise  of  both  worlds,  raising  men's  nature,  and  fitting  them  for 
communion  with  God  hereafter, — revealing  Him  in  His  Son.  Now,  apply 
this  rule  to  all  the  Scriptures,  and  ask  at  every  passage,  not  "  What  follows 
from  this  as  a  general  truth  ?" — but  "  What  is  the  exact  lesson  or  impres- 
sion which  it  was  intended  to  convey  ? — what  faults  was  it  designed  to  cor- 
rect 1 — what  good  feelings  to  encourage  ?"  Our  Lord  says,  "  God  is  a 
Spirit :"  now  if  we  make  conclusions  from  this  metaphysically,  we  may,  for 
auo-ht  I  know,  run  into  all  kinds  of  extravagance,  because  we  neither  know 
what  God  is,  nor  what  Spirit  is ;  but  if  we  take  our  Lord's  conclusion, 
"  Therefore  we  should  worship  Him  in  spirit  and  in  truth ;"  i.  e.  not  with 
outward  forms,  and  still  less,  with  evil  passions  and  practices, — then  it  is  full 
of  truth,  and  wisdom,  and  goodness.  I  have  filled  my  paper,  and  yet  per- 
haps have  not  fully  developed  my  meaning ;  but  you  will  connect  it  perhaps 
with  my  dislike  of  Articles,  because  their  truth  is  always  expressed  abstract- 
edly and  theoretically,  and  my  preference  of  a  Liturgy  as  a  bond  of  union, 
because  there  it  assumes  a  practical  shape,  as  it  is  meant  in  Scripture  to  be 
taken. 


LXVI.      TO    HIS    SISTER,    THE    COUNTESS    OF    CAVAN. 

(In  answer  to  a  question  on  Dr.  Whately's  "  Thoughts  on  the  Sabbath.") 

Rugby,  June  1 1 ,  1833. 

My  own  notions  about  the  matter  would  take  up  rather  too 


much  room,  I  fear,  to  come  in  at  the  end  of  my  paper.  But  my  conclusion  is 
that  whilst  St.  Paul  on  the  one  hand  would  have  been  utterly  shocked  could 
he  have  foreseen  that  eighteen  hundred  years  after  Christianity  had  been  in 
the  world,  such  an  institution  as  the  Sabbath  would  have  been  still  needed; 
yet,  seeing  that  it  is  still  needed,  the  obligation  of  the  old  commandment  is 
still  binding  in  the  spirit  of  it :  that  is,  that  we  should  use  one  day  in  seven 
as  a  sort  of  especial  reminder  of  our  duties,  and  a  relieving  ourselves  from 
the  overpressure  of  worldly  things,  which  daily  life  brings  with  it.  But  our 
Sunday  is  the  beginning  of  the  week,  not  the  end — a  day  of  preparation  and 
strengthening  for  the  week  to  come,  and  not  of  rest  for  the  past ;  and  in  this 
sense  the  old  Christians  kept  it,  because  it  was  the  day  on  which  God  began 
his  work  of  creation  ;  so  little  did  they  think  that  they  had  any  thing  to  do 
with  the  old  Jewish  Sabbath.  You  will  see,  also,  by  our  common  Catechism, 
that  "  the  duty  towards  God,"  which  is  expressly  given  as  a  summary  of  the 
four  first  commandments  to  us,  as  Christians,  says  not  one  word  about  the 
Sabbath,  but  simply  about  loving  God,  worshipping  him,  and  serving  him 
truly  all  the  days  of  our  life.  It  is  not  that  we  may  pick  and  choose  what  com- 
mandments we  like  to  obey,  but,  as  all  the  commandments  have  no  force  upon 
us  as  such, — that  is,  as  positive  and  literal  commands  addressed  to  ourselves, 
. — it  is  only  a  question  how  far  each  commandment  is  applicable  to  us, — that  is, 
how  far  we  are  in  the  same  circumstances  with  those  to  whom  it  was  given. 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


219 


Now,  in  respect  to  the  great  moral  commands  of  worshipping  and  honouring 
God,  honouring  parents,  abstaining  from  murder,  &c, — as  these  are  equally 
applicable  to  all  times  and  all  states  of  society,  they  are  equally  binding  upon 
all  men,  not  as  having  been  some  of  the  commandments  given  to  the  Jews, 
but  as  being  part  of  God's  eternal  and  universal  law,  for  all  his  reasonable 
creatures  to  obey.  And  here,  no  doubt,  there  is  a  serious  responsibility  for 
every  one  to  determine  how  far  what  he  reads  in  the  Bible  concerns  himself; 
and  no  doubt,  also,  that  if  a  man  chooses  to  cheat  his  conscience  in  such  a 
matter,  he  might  do  it  easily ;  but  the  responsibility  is  one  which  we  cannot 
get  rid  of,  because  we  see  that  parts  of  the  Bible  are  not  addressed  directly 
to  us ;  and  thus  we  must  decide  what  is  addressed  to  us  and  what  is  not ; 
and  if  we  decide  dishonestly,  for  the  sake  of  indulging  any  evil  inclination, 
we  do  but  double  our  guilt.1 


LXVII.      TO    MR.    SERGEANT   COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  June  12,  1833, 

Our  Westmoreland  house  is  rising  from  its  founda- 
tions, and  I  hope  rearing  itself  tolerably  "  in  auras  aBthereas."  It  looks 
right  into  the  bosom  of  Fairfield, — a  noble  mountain,  which  sends  down  two 
long  arms  into  the  valley,  and  keeps  the  clouds  reposing  between  them, 
while  he  looks  down  on  them  composedly  with  his  quiet  brow ;  and  the 
Rotha,  "purior  electro,"  winds  round  our  fields,  just  under  the  house.  Be- 
hind, we  run  up  to  the  top  of  Loughrigg,  and  we  have  a  mountain  pasture, 
in  a  basin  on  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  the  very  image  of  those  "  Saltus  "  on 
Cithsron,  wher.e  CEdipus  was  found  by  the  Corinthian  shepherd.  The 
Wordsworths'  friendship,  for  so  I  may  call  it,  is  certainly  one  of  the  greatest 
delights  of  Fox  How, — the  name  of  my  ^wotor, — and  their  kindness  in  ar- 
ranging every  thing  in  our  absence  has  been  very  great.  Mean  time,  till 
our  own  house  is  ready,  which  cannot  be  till  next  summer,  we  have  taken  a 
furnished  house,  at  the  head  of  Grasmere,  on  a  little  shoulder  of  the  moun- 
tain of  Silver  How,  between  the  lake  on  one  Bide,  and  Easedale,  the  most 
delicious  of  vales,  on  the  other. 


LXVIIl.      TO    A    PUPIL. 

(Who  had  written,  with  much  anxiety,  to  know  whether  he  had  offended  him,  as  he  had  thought  his 
manner  changed  towards  him.) 

Grasmere,  July  15,  1833. 

The  other  part  of  your  letter  at  once  gratified  and  pained 

me.     I  was  not  aware  of  any  thing  in  my  manner  to  you  that  could  imply 

1  The  principle  here  laid  down  is  given  more  at  length  in  the  Essay  on  the  Right 
Interpretation  of  Scripture,  at  the  end  of  the  second  volume  of  his  Sermons ;  and  also  in 
the  Sermon  on  the  Lord's  Day,  in  the  third  volume.  It  may  be  well  to  insert  in  this  place 
a  letter  to  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge  in  1830,  relating  to  a  libel  in  a  newspaper,  charging  him 
with  violation  of  the  observance  of  Sunday. 

"  Surely  I  can  deny  the  charge  stoutly  and  in  toto ;  for,  although  I  think  that  the 
whole  law  is  done  away  with,  so  far  as  it  is  the  law  given  on  Mount  Sinai ;  yet  so  far  as 
it  is  the  Law  of  the  Spirit,  I  hold  it  to  be  all  binding  ;  and  believing  that  our  need  of  a 
Lord's  day  is  as  great  as  ever  it  was,  and  that  therefore  its  observance  is  God's  will,  and 
is  likely,  so  far  as  wc  see,  to  be  so  to  the  end  of  time,  I  should  think  it  most  mischievous 
to  weaken  the  respect  paid  to  it.  I  believe  all  that  I  have  ever  published  about  it,  is  to 
be  found  at  the  end  of  my  twentieth  Sermon  [of  the  first  volume]  ;  and  as  for  my  prac- 
tice, I  am  busy  every  Sunday,  from  morning  till  evening,  in  lecturing  the  boys,  or  preach- 
ing to  them,  or  writing  sermons  for  them.     One  feels  ashamed  to  mention  such  things, 


220  LIFE   0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

disapprobation ;  and  certainly  it  was  not  intended  to  do  so.  Yet  it  is  true 
that  I  had  observed,  with  some  pain,  what  seemed  to  me  indications  of  a 
want  of  enthusiasm,  in  the  good  sense  of  the  word,  of  a  moral  sense  and 
feeling  corresponding  to  what  I  knew  was  your  intellectual  activity.  I  did  not 
observe  any  thing  amounting  to  a  sneering  spirit ;  but  there  seemed  to  me 
a  coldness  on  religious  matters,  which  made  me  fear  lest  it  should  change 
to  sneering,  as  your  understanding  became  more  vigorous ;  for  this  is  the 
natural  fault  of  the  undue  predominance  of  the  mere  intellect,  unaccompanied 
by  a  corresponding  growth  and  liveliness  of  the  moral  affections,  particularly 
that  of  admiration  and  love  of  moral  excellence,  just  as  superstition  arises, 
where  it  is  honest,  from  the  undue  predominance  of  the  affections,  without 
the  strengthening  power  of  the  intellect  advancing  in  proportion.  This  was 
the  whole  amount  of  my  feeling  with  respect  to  you,  and  which  has  nothing 
to  do  with  your  conduct  in  school  matters.  I  should  have  taken  an  op- 
portunity of  speaking  to  you  about  the  state  of  your  mind,  had  you  not  led 
me  now  to  mention  it.  Possibly  my  impression  may  be  wrong,  and  indeed 
it  has  been  created  by  very  trifling  circumstances :  but  I  am  always  keenly 
alive  on  this  point,  to  the  slightest  indications,  because  it  is  the  besetting 
danger  of  an  active  mind — a  much  more  serious  one,  I  think,  than  the  temp- 
tation to  mere  personal  vanity. 

I  must  again  say,  most  expressly,  that  I  observed  nothing  more,  than  an 
apparent  want  of  lively  moral  susceptibility.  Your  answers  on  religious 
subjects  were  always  serious  and  sensible,  and  seemed  to  me  quite  sincere  ; 
I  only  feared  that  they  proceeded,  perhaps  too  exclusively,  from  an  intel- 
lectual perception  of  truth,  without  a  sufficient  love  and  admiration  for 
goodness.  I  hold  the  lines,-"  nil  admirari,"  &c,  to  be  as  utterly  false  as 
any  moral  sentiment  ever  uttered.  Intense  admiration  is  necessary  to  our 
highest  perfection,  and  we  have  an  object  in  the  Gospel,  for  which  it  may 
be  felt  to  the  utmost,  without  any  fear  lest  the  most  critical  intellect  should 
tax  us  justly  with  unworthy  idolatry.  But  I  am  as  little  inclined  as  any 
one  to  make  an  idol  out  of  any  human  virtue,  or  human  wisdom. 


LXIX.         TO    W.    W.    HULL,    ESft. 

Rugby,  June  24,  1833. 

An  ordinary  letter  written  to  me  when  yours  was,  would  have  been  an- 
swered some  time  since,  but  I  do  not  like  to  write  to  you  when  I  have  no 
leisure  to  write  at  length.  Most  truly  do  I  thank  you  both  for  your 
affectionate  recollection  of  my  birthday,  and  for  coupling  it  in  your  mind 
with  the  4th  of  April.1     May  my  second  birthday  be  as  blessed  to  me,  as 

the  20th  of  August,  I    doubt  not,  has  been  to  her All 

writings  which  state  the  truth,  must  contain  things  which,  taken  nakedly  and 
without  their  balancing  truths,  may  serve  the  purposes  of  either  party,  be- 
cause no  party  is  altogether  wrong.  But  I  have  no  reason  to  think  that  my 
Church  Reform  Pamphlet  has  served  the  purposes  of  the  antichristian  party 
in  any  way,  it  being  hardly  possible  to  extract  a.  passage  which  they  would 
like.  The  High  Church  party  are  offended  enough,  and  so  .are  the  Unita- 
rians, but  I  do  not  see  that  either  make  a  cat's  paw  of  me 

The  Bishop  confirms  here  on  Saturday,  and  I  have  had  and  have  still  a 
great  deal  to  do  in  examining  the  boys  for  it.  Indeed,  the  work  is  full  heavy 
just  now,  but  the  fry  are  learning  cricket,  and  we  play  nice  matches  some- 
times to  my  great  refreshment. God  bless  you  and  yours. 

but  the  fact  is,  that  I  have  doubled  my  own  work  on  Sunday,  to  give  the  boys  more  reli- 
gious instruction  ;  and  that  I  can,  I  hope,  deny  the  charge  of  the  libel  in  as  strong  terms 
as  you  could  wish." 

1  Alluding  to  his  sister's  birthday  and  death. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  33 1 


LXX.      TO    REV.  AUGUSTUS  HARE. 

(In  answer  to  objections  to  his  Pamphlet,) 

Grasmere,  August  3,  1833. 

And  now  I  feel  that  to  reply  to  your  letter  as  I  could 

wish,  would  require  a  volume.  You  will  say,  why  was  not  the  volume  pub- 
lished before  or  with  the  pamphlet  ?  To  which  I  answer  that,  first,  it  would 
probably  not  have  been  read,  and  secondly,  I  was  not  prepared  to  find  men 
so  startled  at  principles,  which  have  long  appeared  to  me  to  follow  necessa- 
rily from  a  careful  study  of  the  New  Testament.  Be  assured,  however, 
that,  whether  mistakenly  or  not,  I  fully  believe  that  such  a  plan  as  I  have 
proposed,  taken  altogether,  would  lead  to  a  more  complete  representation  of 
Scripture  truth  in  our  forms  of  worship  and  preaching  than  we  have  ever 
yet  attained  to ;  not,  certainly,  if  we  were  only  to  cut  away  Articles,  and 
alter  the  Liturgy — then  the  effect  might  be  latitudinarian — but  if,  whilst 
relaxing  the  theoretical  bond,  we  were  to  tighten  the  practical  one  by 
amending  the  government  and  constitution  of  the  Church,  then  I  do  believe 
that  the  fruit  would  be  Christian  union,  by  which  I  certainly  do  not  mean 
an  agreement  in  believing  nothing,  or  as  little  as  we  can.  Mean  time,  I 
wish  to  remind  you  that  one  of  St.  Paul's  favourite  notions  of  heresy  is  "  a 
doting  about  strifes  of  words."  One  side  may  be  rigfit  in  such  a  strife,  and 
the  other  wrong,  but  both  are  heretical  as  to  Christianity,  because  they  lead 
men's  minds  away  from  the  love  of  God  and  of  Christ,  to  questions  essen- 
tially tempting  to  the  intellect,  and  which  tend  to  no  profit  towards  godli- 
ness. And  again,  I  think  you  will  find  that  all  the  "  false  doctrines  "  spoken 
of  by  the  Apostles,  are  doctrines  of  sheer  wickedness ;  that  their  counter- 
part in  modern  times  is  to  be  found  in  the  Anabaptists  of  Munster,  or  the 
Fifth  Monarchy  Men,  or  in  mere  secular  High  Churchmen,  or  hypocritical 
Evangelicals, — in  those  who  make  Christianity  minister  to  lust,  or  to  covet- 
ousness,  or  to  ambition ;  not  in  those  who  interpret  Scripture  to  the  best  of 
their  conscience  and  ability,  be  their  interpretation  ever  so  erroneous. 


LXXI.      TO    REV.  G.    CORNISH. 

Allan  Bank,  Grasmere,  August  18,  1833. 

I  have  had  a  good  deal  of  worry  from the  party  spirit 

of  the  neighbourhood,  who  in  the  first  place  have  no  notion  of  what  my 
opinions  are,  and  in  the  next  place  cannot  believe  that  I  do  not  teach  the 
boys  Junius  and  the  Edinburgh  Review,  at  the  least,  if  not  Cobbett  and  the 
Examiner.  But  this  is  an  evil  which  flesh  is  heir  to,  if  flesh,  at  least,  will 
write  as  I  have  done.  I  am  sorry  that  you  do  not  like  the  Pamphlet,  for  I 
am  myself  daily  more  and  more  convinced  of  its  truth.  I  will  not  answer 
for  its  practicability ;  when  the  patient  is  at  his  last  gasp,  the  dose  may  come 
too  late,  but  still  it  is  his  only  chance  :  he  may  die  of  the  doctor;  he  must  die 
of  the  disease.  I  fear  that  nothing  can  save  us  from  falling  into  the  Ame- 
rican system,  which  will  well  show  us  the  inherent  evil  of  our  Protestantism, 
each  man  quarrelling  with  his  neighbour  for  a  word,  and  all  discarding  so 
much  of  the  beauty  and  solemnity,  and  visible  power  of  the  Gospel,  that  in 
common  minds,  where  its  spiritual  power  is  not  very  great,  the  result  is  like 
the  savourless  salt,  the  vilest  thing  in  the  world.  I  would  join  with  all  those 
who  love  Christ  and  pray  to  him  ;  who  regard  him  not  as  dead,  but  as  living. 
[This  part  of  the  letter  has  been  accidently  torn  away :  the  substance  of  it 

seems  to  have  been  the  same  as  that  of  Letters  LXI.  and  LXIX.J 

Make  the  [Church  a]  living  and  active  society,  like  that  of  the  first 
Christians,,  [and  then]  differences  of  opinion  will  either  cease  or  will  signify 
nothing.    [Look]  through  the  Epistles,  and  you  will  find  nothing  there  con- 


222  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

demned  as  [heresy]  but  what  was  mere  wickedness ;  if  you  consider  the 
real  nature  and  connexion  of  the  tenets  condemned.  For  such  differences 
of  opinion  as  exist  amongst  Christians  now,  the  14th  chapter  of  the  Romans 
is  the  applicable  lesson — not  such  passages  as  Titus  iii.  10,  or  2  John  10,  11, 
or  Jude  3,  (that  much  abused  verse  !)  or  19  or  23.  There  is  one  anathema, 
which  is  indeed  holy  and  just,  and  most  profitable  for  ourselves  as  well  as 
for  others,  (1  Corinth,  xvi.  22,)  but  this  is  not  the  anathema  of  a  fond  the- 
ology  Lo  !  1  have  written  you  almost  another  pamphlet,  instead  of 

telling  you  of  my  wife  and  the  fry,  who  for  more  than  five  weeks  have  been 
revelling  amongst  the  mountains.  But  as  far  as  scenery  goes,  I  would  rather 
have  heath  and  blue  hills  all  the  year,  than  mountains  for  three  months,  and 
Warwickshire  for  nine,  with  no  hills,  either  blue  or  brown,  no  heath,  no 
woods,  no  clear  streams,  no  wide  plains  for  lights  and  shades  to  play  over, 
nay.  no  banks  for  flowers  to  grow  upon,  but  one  monotonous  undulation  of 
green  fields,  and  hedges,  and  very  fat  cattle.  But  we  have  each  our  own 
work,  and  our  own  enjoyments,  and  I  am  sure  that  I  have  more  than  I  can 
ever  be  sufficiently  thankful  for. 


LXXII.      TO    REV.  JULIUS  HARE. 

Rugby,  October  7,  1833. 

.  ^  .  .  .  In  Italy  you  met  Bunsen,  and  can  now  sympathize  with  the 
all  but  idolatry  with  which  I  regard  him.  So  beautifully  good,  so  wise,  and 
so  noble-minded  !  I  do  not  believe  that  any  man  can  have  a  deeper  interest 
in  Rome  than  I  have,  yet  I  envy  you  nothing  so  much  in  your  last  winter's 
stay  there,  as  your  continued  intercourse  with  Bunsen.  It  is  since  I  saw 
you  that  I  have  been  devouring  with  the  most  intense  admiration  the  third 
volume  of  Niebuhr.  The  clearness  and  comprehensiveness  of  all  his  milita- 
ry details  is  a  new  feature  in  that  wonderful  mind,  and  how  inimitably  beau- 
tiful is  that  brief  account  of  Terni.  You  will  not,  I  trust,  misinterpret  me, 
when  I  say  that  this  third  volume  set  me  at  work  again  in  earnest,  on  the 
Roman  History,  last  summer.  As  to  any  man's  being  a  fit  continuator  of 
Niebuhr,  that  is  absurd ;  but  I  have  at  least  the  qualification  of  an  unbounded 
veneration  for  what  he  has  done,  and,  as  my  name  is  mentioned  in  his  book, 
I  should  like  to  try  to  embody,  in  a  continuation  of  the  Roman  History,  the 
thoughts  and  notions  which  I  have  learnt  from  him.  Perhaps  I  may  trouble 
you  with  a  letter  on  this  subject,  asking,  as  I  have  often  done  before,  for  in- 
formation.1 


LXXIII.      TO    MR.  SERGEANT  COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  October  23,  1833. 

I  love  your  letters  dearly,  and  thank  you  for  them  greatly;  your  last  was 
a  great  treat,  though  I  may  seem  not  to  have  shown  my  sense  of  it,  by  an- 
swering it  so  leisurely.  First  of  all,  you  will  be^glad  to  hear  of  the  birth  of 
my  eighth  living  child,  a  little  girl,  to  whom  we  mean  to  give  an  unreasona- 
ble number  of  names,  Frances  Bunsen  Trevenen  Whately ;  the  second 
after  my  valued  friend,  the  Prussian  Minister  at  Rome,  of  whom,  as  I  know 
not  whether  I  shall  ever  see  him  again,  I  wished  to  have  a  daily  present 
recollection  in  the  person  of  one  of  my  children.  I  wish  I  could  show  you 
his  two  letters,  one  to  me  on  the  political  state  of  Europe,  and  one  to  Dr. 
Nott  on  the  perfect  notion  of  a  Christian  Liturgy.  I  am  sure  that  you  would 
love  and  admire,  with  me,  the  extraordinary  combination  of  piety  and  wis- 

1  This  alludes  to  a  plan  he  at  first  entertained  of  beginning  his  own  Roman  History 
with  the  Punic  ware. 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


223 


dom  and  profound  knowledge  and  large  experience  which  breathes  through 
every  line  of  both. 

I  go  all  lengths  with  you  in  deprecating  any  increase  of 

political  excitement,  any  thing  that  shall  tend  to  make  politics  enter  into  a 
man's  daily  thoughts  and  daily  practice.  When  I  first  projected  the  Eng- 
lishman's Register,  I  wrote  to  my  nephew  my  sentiments  about  it  in  full ;  a 
letter  which  I  keep,  and  may  one  day  find  it  convenient  to  publish  as  my 
confession  of  faith ;  in  this  letter  I  protested  strongly  against  making  the 
Register  exclusively  political,  and  entered  at  large  into  my  reasons  for  doing 
so.  Undoubtedly  I  fear  that  the  Government  lend  an  ear  too  readily  to  the 
Utilitarians  and  others  of  that  coarse  and  hard  stamp,  whose  influence  can 
be  nothing  but  evil.  In  church  matters  they  have  got  Whately,  and  a  signal 
blessing  it  is  that  they  have  him  and  listen  to  him ;  a  man  so  good  and  so 
great  that  no  folly  or  wickedness  of  the  most  vile  of  factions  will  move  him 
from  his  own  purposes,  or  provoke  him  in  disgust  to  forsake  the  defence  of 

the  Temple 

I  cannot  say  how  I  am  annoyed,  both  on  public  and  private  grounds, 
by  these  extravagances,  [at  Oxford ;]    on  private  grounds,  from  the  gross 
breaches  of  charity  to  which  they  lead  good  men ;  and  on  public,  because  if 
these  things  do  produce  any  effect  on  the  clergy,  the  evil  consequences  to  the 
nation  are  not  to  be  calculated;  for  what  is  to  become  of  the  Church,  if  the 
clergy  begin  to  exhibit  an  aggravation  of  the  worst  superstitions  of  the  Ro- 
man Catholics,  only  stripped  of  that  consistency,  which  stamps  even  the 
errors  of  the  Romish  system  with  something  of  a  character  of  greatness.     It 
seems  presumption  in  me  to  press  any  point  upon  your  consideration,  seeing 
in  how  many  things  I  have  learnt  to  think  from  you.     But  it  has   always 
seemed  to  me  that  an  extreme  fondness  for  our  "  dear  mother  the  panther,"  ' 
is  a  snare,  to  which  the  noblest  minds  are  most  liable.     It  seems  to  me  that 
all,  absolutely  all,  of  our  religious  affections  and  veneration  should  go  to 
Christ  himself,  and  that  Protestantism,  Catholicism,  and  every  other  name, 
which  expresses  Christianity,  and  some  differentia  or  proprium  besides,  is 
so  far  an  evil,  and,  when  made  an  object  of  attachment,  leads  to  superstition 
and  error.     Then,  descending  from  religious'  grounds  to  human,  I  think  that 
one?s  natural  and  patriotic  sympathies  can  hardly  be  too  strong ;  but,  his- 
torically, the  Church  of  England  is  surely  of  a  motley  complexion,  with 
much  of  good  about  it,  and  much  of  evil,  no  more  a  fit  subject  for  enthusiastic 
admiration  than  for  violent  obloquy.     I  honour  and  sympathize  entirely  with 
the  feelings  entertained ;  I  only  think  that  they  might  all  of  them  select  a 
worthier  object;  that,  whether  they  be  pious  and  devout,  or  patriotic,   or 
romantic,  or  of  whatever  class  soever,  there  is  for  each  and  all  of  these  a 
true  object,  on  which  they  may  fasten  without  danger  and  with  infinite  be- 
nefit ;  for  surely  the  feeling  of  entire  love  and  admiration  is  one,  which  we 
cannot  safely  part  with,  and  there  are  provided,  by  God's  goodness,  worthy 
and  perfect  objects  of  it ;  but  these  can  never  be  human  institutions,  which, 
being  necessarily  full  of  imperfection,  require  to  be  viewed  with  an  impartial 
judgment,  not  idolized  by  an  uncritical  affection.     And  that  common  meta- 
phor  about   our  "  Mother  the  Church,"  is  unscriptural  and    mischievous, 
because  the  feelings  of  entire  filial  reverence  and  love  which  we  owe  to  a 
parent,  we  do  not  owe  to  our  fellow  Christians  ;  we  owe  them  brotherly  love, 
meekness,  readiness  to  bear,  &c,  but  not  filial  reverence,  "  to  them  I  gave 
place  by  subjection,  no  not  for  an  hour."     Now,  if  I  were  a  Utilitarian,  I 
should  not  care  for  what  I  think  a  misapplication  of  the  noblest  feelings ;  for 
then  I  should  not  care  for  the  danger  to  which  this  misapplication  exposes 
the  feelings  themselves ;  but  as  it  is  I  dread  to  see  the  evils  of  the  Refor- 
mation of  the  16th  century  repeated  over  again ;    superstition  provoking 
profaneness,   and   ignorance   and  violence  on   one  side   leading  to   equal 
ignorance  and  violence  on  the  other,  to  the  equal  injury  of  both  truth  and 

1  Dryden's  "  Hind  and  Panther." 


224  LIFE   0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

love.  I  should  feel  greatly  obliged  to  you,  if  you  could  tell  me  any  thing 
that  seems  to  you  a  flaw  in  the  reasoning  of  those  pages  of  the  Postscript  of 
my  pamphlet  which  speak  of  Episcopacy,  and  of  what  is  commonly  called 
the  "  alliance  between  Church  and  State."  In  the  last  point  I  am  far  more 
orthodox,  according  to  the  standard  of  our  reformers,  than  either  the  Tolera- 
tion' men  or  the  High  Church  men,  but  those  notions  are  now  out  of 
fashion,  and  what  between  religious  bigotry  and  civil  licentiousness,  all,  I 
suppose,  will  go.  "  But  I  will  have  compassion  on  your  patience. 

It  was  delightful  to  hear  of  you  and  yours  in  Devonshire.  I  wish  they 
would  put  you  on  a  commission  of  some  sort  or  other  that  might  take  you 
into  Westmoreland  some  summer  or  winter.  When  our  house  is  quite 
finished  do  you  not  think  that  the  temptation  will  be  great  to  me  to  go  and 
live  there,  and  return  to  my  old  Laleham  way  of  life  on  the  Rotha,  instead  of 
on  the  Thames  ?  But  independent  of  more  worldly  considerations,  my  great 
experiment  here  is  in  much  too  interesting  a  situation  to  abandon  lightly. 
You  will  be  amused  when  I  tell  you  that  1  am  becoming  more  and  more  a 
convert  to  the  advantages  of  Latin  and  Greek  verse,  and  more  suspicious  of 
the  mere  fact  system,  that  would  cram  with  knowledge  of  particular  things 
and  call  it  information.  My  own  lessons  with  the  Sixth  Form  are  directed 
now  to  the  best  of  my  power  to  the  furnishing  rules  or  formula?  for  them  to 
work  with,  e.  g.  rules  to  be  observed  in  translation,  principles  of  taste  as  to 
the  choice  of  English  words,  as  to  the  keeping  or  varying  idioms  and  meta- 
phors, &c,  or  in  history,  rules  of  evidence  or  general  forms  for  the  dissec- 
tion of  campaigns,  or  the  estimating  the  importance  of  wars,  revolutions,  &c. 
This,  together  with  the  opening  as  it  were  the  sources  of  knowledge,  by 
telling  them  where  they  can  find  such  and  such  things,  and  giving  them  a 
notion  of  criticism,  not  to  swallow  things  whole,  as  the  scholars  of  an  earlier 
period  too  often  did, — is  what  I  am  labouring  at,  much  more  than  at  giving 
information.  And  the  composition  is  mending  decidedly;  though  speaking 
to  an  Etonian,  I  am  well  aware  that  our  amended  state  would  be  with  you 
a  very  degenerate  one.  But  we  are  looking  up,  certainly,  and  pains  are 
taking  in  the  lower  Forms,  of  which  we  shall  I  think  soon  see  the  fruit.  .  .  . 

I  am  getting  on  with  Thucydides  myself,  and  am  nearly  in  the  middle  of 
the  seventh  book ;  at  Allan  Bank  in  the  summer  I  worked  on  the  Roman 
History,  and  hope  to  do  so  again  in  the  winter.  It  is  very  inspiring  to  write 
with  such  a  view  before  one's  eyes  as  that  from  our  drawing  room  at  Allan 
Bank,  where  the  trees  of  the  shrubbery  gradually  run  up  into  the  trees  of 
the  cliff,  and  the  mountain  side,  with  its  infinite  variety  of  rocky  peaks  and 
points  on  which  the  cattle  expatiate,  rises  over  the  tops  of  the  trees.  Tre- 
venen  Penrose  and  his  wife  were  with  us  for  nearly  a  month  in  Westmore- 
land, and  enjoyed  the  country  as  much  as  we  did.  He  is  labouring  most 
admirably  and  effectually  at  Coleby.  I  saw  Southey  once  at  Keswick,  and 
had  a  very  friendly  interview ;  he  asked  me  to  go  over  and  stay  with  him 
for  a  day  or  two  in  the  winter,  which  I  think  I  should  like  much.  His  cou- 
sin, Herbert  Hill,  is  now  the  tutor  to  my  own  boys.  He  lives  in  Rugby,  and 
the  boys  go  to  him  every  day  to  their  great  benefit.  He  is  a  Fellow  of  New 
College,  and  it  rejoices  me  to  talk  over  Winchester  recollections  together. 
Your  little  God-daughter  is  my  pupil  twice  a  week  in  Delectus  ....  Her 
elder  sister  is  my  pupil  three  times  a  week  in  Virgil,  and  once  a  week  in  the 
Greek  Testament,  and  promises  to  do  very  well  in  both.  I  have  yet  a  great 
many  things  to  say,  but  I  will  not  keep  my  letter ;  how  glad  I  should  be  if 
you  could  ever  come  down  to  us  for  even  a  single  Sunday,  but  I  suppose  I 
must  not  ask  it. 

1  "  I  should  like,"  he  said,  "  to  see  the  Toleration  Act  and  the  Act  of  Uniformity- 
burnt  side  by  side." 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  225 


LXXIV.      TO  JACOB    ABBOTT, 
(Author  of  the  "  Young  Christian,"  &c.) 

Rugby,  November  1,  1833. 

Although  I  have  not  the  honour  of  being  personally  known  to  you,  yet 
my  great  admiration  of  your  little  book,  "  The  Young  Christian,"  and  the 
circumstance  of  my  being  engaged,  like  yourself,  in  the  work  of  education, 
induce  me  to  hope,  that  you  will  forgive  the  liberty  I  am  taking  in  now 
addressing  you.  A  third  consideration  weighs  with  me,  and  in  this  I  feel 
sure  that  you  will  sympathize  ;  that  it  is  desirable  on  every  occasion  to  en- 
large the  friendly  communication  of  our  country  with  yours.  The  publica- 
tion of  a  work  like  yours  in  America  was  far  more  delightful  to  me  than  its 
publication  in  England  could  have  been.  Nothing  can  be  more  important 
to  the  future  welfare  of  mankind,  than  that  God's  people,  serving  Him  in 
power  and  in  love,  and  in  a  sound  mind,  should  deeply  influence  the  national 
character  of  the  United  States,  which  in  many  parts  of  the  Union  is  undoubt- 
edly exposed  to  influences  Of  a  very  different  description,  owing  to  circum- 
stances apparently  beyond  the  control  of  human  power  and  wisdom. 

I  request  your  acceptance  of  a  volume  of  Sermons,  most  of  which,  as 
you  will  see,  were  addressed  to  boys  or  very  young  men,  and  which  there- 
fore coincide  in  intention  with  your  own  admirable  book.1  And  at  the  same 
time  I  venture  to  send  you  a  little  work  of  mine  on  a  different  subject,  for  no 
other  reason,  I  believe,  than  the  pleasure  of  submitting  my  views  upon  a 
great  question  to  the  judgment  of  a  mind  furnished  morally  and  intellectu- 
ally as  yours  must  be. 

I  have  been  for  five  years  head  of  this  school.  [After  describing  the 
manner  of  its  foundation  and  growth.]  You  may  imagine,  then,  that  I  am 
engaged  in  a  great  and  anxious  labour,  and  must  have  considerable  experi- 
ence of  the  difficulty  of  turning  the  young  mind  to  know  and  love  God  in 
Christ. 

I  have  understood  that  Unitarianism  is  becoming  very  prevalent  in  Bos- 
ton, and  I  am  anxious  to  know  what  the  complexion  of  Unitarianism  amongst 
you  is.  I  mean  whether  it  is  Arian  or  Socinianj  and  whether  its  disciples 
are  for  the  most  part  men  of  hard  minds  and  indifferent  to  religion,  or 
whether  they  are  zealous  in  the  service  of  Christ,  according  to  their  own 
notions  of  His  claims  upon  their  gratitude  and  love.  It  has  been  long  my 
firm  belief  that  a  great  proportion  of  Unitarianism  might  be  cured  by  a 
wiser  and  more  charitable  treatment  on  the  part  of  their  adversaries,  if  these 
would  but  consider  what  is  the  main  thing  in  the  Gospel,  and  that  even 
truth  is  not  always  to  be  insisted  upon,  if  by  forcing  it  upon  the  reception  of 
those  who  are  not  prepared  for  it,  they  are  thereby  tempted  to  renounce 
what  is  not  only  true,  but  essential — a  character  which  assuredly  does  not 
belong  to  all  true  propositions,  whether  about  things  human  or  things  divine. 


LXXV.   TO  THE  ARCHBISHOP  OF  DUBLIN. 

Rugby,  November  8,  1833. 

.Would  any  good  be  likely  to  come  of  it,  if  I  were  one 

day  to  send  you  a  specimen  of  such  corrections  in  our  authorized  version  of 
Scripture,  such  as  seem  to  me  desirable,  and  such  as  could  shock  no  one. 
I  have  had,  and  am  having  daily,  so  much  practice  in  translation,  and  am 
taking  so  much  pains  to  make  the  boys  vary  their  language  and  their  phrase- 
ology) according  to  the  age  and  style  of  the  writer  whom  they  are  translating, 

1  His  opinion  of  the  Corner-stone  is  given  in  a  note  to  the  second  Appendix  of  his 
third  volume  of  Sermons,  p.  440. 


226  LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

that  I  think  I  may  be  trusted  for  introducing  no  words  or  idiom  unsuited  to 
the  general  style  of  the  present  translation,  nothing  to  lessen  the  purity  of 
its  Saxon,  or  to  betray  a  modern  interpolation.  My  object  would  be  to  alter 
in  the  very  language,  as  far  as  I  could  guess  it,  which  the  translators  them- 
selves would  have  used,  had  they  only  had  our  present  knowledge  of  Greek. 
I  think  also  that  the  results  of  modern  criticism  should  so  far  be  noticed,  as 
that  some  little  clauses,  omitted  in  all  the  best  MSS.,  should  be  printed  in 
italics,  and  important  various  readings  of  equal  or  better  authority  than  the 
received  text,  should  be  noticed  in  the  margin.  Above  all,  it  is  most  impor- 
tant that  the  division  into  chapters  should  be  mended,  especially  as  regards 
the  public  reading  in  the  Church,  and  that  the  choice  of  lessons  from  the 
Old  Testament  should  be  improved 

It  is  almost  inconceivable  to  me  that  you  should  misunderstand  any  book 
that  you  read  ;  and,  if  such  a  thing  does  happen,  I  am  afraid  that  it  must  be 
the  writer's  fault.  But  I  cannot  remember  that  I  have  altered  my  opinions 
since  my  Pamphlet  (on  the  Catholic  claims),  nor  do  I  see  any  thing  there 
inconsistent  with  my  doctrine  (of  Church  and  State)  in  the  Postscript  to  the 
Pamphlet  on  Church  Reform.  I  always  grounded  the  right  to  Emancipa- 
tion on  the  principle  that  Ireland  was  a  distinct  nation,  entitled  to  govern 
itself.  I  know  full  well  that  my  principles  would  lead  to  the  establishment 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion  in  three-fourths  of  Ireland;  but  this  conclu- 
sion was  not  wanted  then,  and  the  right  to  emancipation  followed  a  fortiori 
from  the  right  to  govern  themselves  as  a  nation,  without  entering  upon  the 
question  of  the  establishment.  Those  who  think  that  Catholicism  is  idolatry, 
ought,  on  their  own  principles,  to  move  heaven  and  earth  for  the  repeal  of 
the  Union,  and  to  let  O'Connell  rule  his  Kelts  their  own  way.  I  think  that  a 
Catholic  is  a  member  of  Christ's  Church  just  as  much  as  I  am ;  and  I  could 
well  endure  one  form  of  that  Church  in  Ireland,  and  another  in  England. 
And  if  you  look  (it  is  to  be  found  in  the  second  volume  of  Voltaire's  Siecle 
de  Louis  XIV.)  for  the  four  Articles  resolved  on  by  the  Gallican  Church  in 
the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century,  you  will  see  a  precedent  and  a  means 
pointed  out,  whereby  every  Roman  Catholic  national  Church  may  be  led  to 
reform  itself;  and  I  only  hope  that  when  they  do  they  will  reform  themselves 
so  far  as  to  be  thorough  Christians,  and  avoid,  as  they  would  a  dog  or  a 
viper,  the  errors  which  marred  the  Protestant  Reformation  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  destroying  things  most  noble  and  most  purifying,  as  well  as  things 
superstitious  and  hurtful 

I  will  trust  no  man  when  he  turns  fanatic  ;  and  really  these  high  church- 
men are  far  more  fanatical  and  much  more  foolish  than  Irving  himself.  Ir- 
ving appealed  to  the  gifts  of  tongues  and  of  healing,  which  he  alleged  to 
exist  in  his  congregation,  as  proofs  that  the  Holy  Spirit  was  with  them  ;  but 
the  High  Churchmen  abandon  reason,  and  impute  motives,  and  claim  to  be 
Christ's  only  Church, — and  where  are  the  "  signs  of  an  apostle  "  to  be  seen 
among  them,  or  where  do  they  pretend  to  show  them  ? 


LXXVI.      TO    W.    W.    HULL,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  February  24,  1834. 

I  have,  as  usual,  many  things  on  hand,  or  rather  in  med- 
itation ;  but  time  fails  me  sadly,  and  my  physical  constitution  seems  to  re- 
quire more  sleep  than  it  did,  which  abridges  my  time  still  more.  Yet  I  was 
never  better  or  stronger  than  I  was  in  Westmoreland  during  the  winter  or 
indeed  than  I  am  now.  But  I  feel,  more  and  more,  that,  though  my  consti- 
tution is  perfectly  sound,  yet  it  is  not  strong ;  and  my  nervous  system  would 
soon  wear  me  out  if  I  lived  in  a  state  of  much  excitement.  Body  and  mind 
alike  seem  to  repose  greedily  in  delicious  quiet  without  dulness,  which  we 
enjoy  in  Westmoreland. 


LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  227 

It  is  easier  to  speak  of  body  and  mind  than  of  that  which  is  more  worth 
than  either.  I  doubt  whether  we  have  enough  of  Christian  Confession 
among  us;1  the  superstition  of  Popery  in  this,  as  in  other  matters,  doubly 
injured  the  good  which  it  corrupted ;  first  by  corrupting  it,  and  then,  "  trai- 
tor like,  by  betraying  it  to  the  axe  "  of  too  hasty  reformation.  Yet  surely 
one  object  of  the  Christian  Church  was  to  enable  us  to  aid  in  bearing  one 
another's  burthens ;  not  to  enable  a  minister  to  pretend  to  bear  those  of  all 
his  neighbors.  One  is  so  hindered  from  speaking  of  one's  spiritual  state,  that 
one  is  led  even  to  think  of  it  less  frequently  than  is  wholesome.  I  am 
learning  to  think  more  and  more  how  unbelief  is  at  the  bottom  of  all  our 
evil ;  how  our  one  prayer  should  be  "  Increase  our  faith."  And  we  do  fear- 
fully live,  as  it  were,  out  of  God's  atmosphere ;  we  do  not  keep  that  continual 
consciousness  of  His  reality  which  I  conceive  we  ought  to  have,  and  which 
should  make  Him  more  manifest  to  our  souls,  than  the  Shechinah  was  to 
the  eyes  of  the  Israelites.  I  have  many  fresh  sermons ;  and  my  wife  wants 
another  volume  printed  ;  but  I  do  not  think  there  would  be  enough  of  system- 
atic matter  to  make  a  volume,  and  mere  specimens  of  my  general  preaching  I 
have  given  already.  I  trust  you  will  come  next  week  ;  life  is  too  uncertain 
to  admit  of  passing  over  opportunities.  You  have  heard,  probably,  that 
Augustus  Hare  is  likely  soon  to  follow  poor  Lowe,  and  to  lay  his  bones  in 
Rome ;  he  is  far  gone,  they  say,  in  a  consumption.  May  God  bless  you, 
my  dear  Hull,  in  Jesus  Christ,  both  you  and  yours  for  ever. 


LXXVII.      TO    REV.    F.    C.    BLACKSTONE. 

Rugby,  February  26,  1834. 

....  I  often  think  what  may  be  your  views  of  the  various  aspects  of 
things  in  general — to  what  notions  you  are  more  and  more  becoming  wed- 
ded :  for,  though  I  think  that  men,  who  are  lovers  of  truth,  become  less  and 
less  attached  to  any  mere  party  as  they  advance  in  life,  and  certainly  be- 
come, in  the  best  sense  of  the  word,  more  tolerant,  yet  their  views  also  ac- 
quire greater  range  and  consistency,  and  what  they  once  saw  as  scattered 
truths,  they  learn  to  combine  with  one  another,  so  as  to  make  each  throw 
light  on  the  other ;  so  that  their  principles  become  more  fixed,  while  their 
likings  and  dislikings  of  particular  persons  or  parties  become  more  mode- 
rate  

Our  residence  in  Westmoreland  attaches  us  all  to  it  more  and  more ;  the 
refreshment  which  it  affords  me  is  wonderful ;  and  it  is  especially  so  in  the 
winter,  when  the  country  is  quieter,  and  actually,  as  I  think,  more  beautiful 
than  in  summer.  I  was  often  reminded,  as  I  used  to  come  home  to  Gras- 
mere  of  an  evening,  and  seemed  to  be  quite  shut  in  by  the  surrounding  moun- 
tains, of  the  comparison  of  the  hills  standing  about  Jerusalem,  with  God 
standing  about  His  people.  The  impression,  which  the  mountains  gave  me, 
was  never  one  of  bleakness  or  wildness,  but  of  a  sort  of  paternal  shelter  and 
protection  to  the  valley ;  and  in  those  violent  storms,  which  were  so  frequent 
this  winter,  our  house  lay  snug  beneath  its  cliff,  and  felt  comparatively  noth- 
ing of  the  wind.  We  had  no  snow  in  the  valleys,  but  frequently  a  thick 
powdering  on  the  higher  mountains,  while  all  below  was  green  and  warm. 
The  School  goes  on  very  fairly  ;  with  its  natural  proportion  of  interest  and 
of  annoyance.  I  am  daily  more  and  more  struck  with  the  very  low  average 
of  intellectual  power,  and  of  the  difficulty  of  meeting  those  various  tempta- 
tions, both  intellectual  and  moral,  which  stand  in  boys'  way ;  a  school  shows 
as  undisguisedly  as  anyplace  the  corruption  of  human  nature,  and  the  mon- 
strous advantage  with  which  evil  starts,  if  I  may  so  speak,  in  its  contest  with 
good. 

1  See  Sermons,  vol.  iii.  p.  313. 


228  LIFE   OF   DR-  ARNOLD. 


LXXVIII.      TO    REV.   JULIUS    HARE. 

(On  the  Death  of  his  hrother,  Augustus  Hare.) 

Rugby,  March  10,  1834. 

I  will  not  trouble  you  with  many  words ;  but  it  seemed  unnatural  to  me 
not  to  write,  after  the  account  from  Rome,  which  Arthur  Stanley  this  morn- 
ing communicated  to  me.  I  do  not  attempt  to  condole,  or  to  say  any  thing 
further,  than  that,  having  known  your  brother  for  more  than  twenty-five 
years,  and  having  experienced  unvaried  kindness  from  him  since  I  first  knew 
him,  I  hope  that  I  can  in  some  degree  appreciate  what  you  have  lost.  Of  all 
men  whom  I  ever  knew,  he  was  the  one  of  whom  Bunsen  most  strongly  re- 
minded me,  so  that  he  seemed  like  Bunsen  in  England,  as  Bunsen  had 
seemed  like  him  in  Italy.  God  grant  that  I  may  try  to  resemble  them  both 
in  all  the  nobleness  and  beauty  of  their  goodness. 


LXXIX.      TO    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

(  With  regard  to  Tracts  which  he  had  intended  to  circulate  in  opposition  to  the  early  Numbers  of  the 

"  Tracts  for  the  Times.") 

Rugby,  April  14,  1834. 

The  concluding  part  of  your  letter  is  a  very  good  reason  for  my  not 
asking  you  to  trouble  yourself  any  further  about  my  papers.  If  the  Tracts 
in  question  are  not  much  circulated,  then,  of  course,  it  would  be  a  pity  to 
make  them  known  by  answering  them  ;  but  this  is  a  matter  of  fact,  which  I 
know  not  how  to  ascertain.  They  are  strenuously  puffed  by  the  British 
Magazine,  and  strenuously  circulated  amongst  the  clergy ;  of  course  I  do 
not  suppose  that  any  living  man  out  of  the  clergy  is  in  the  slightest  danger 
of  being  influenced  by  them,  except  so  far  as  they  may  lead  him  to  despise 
the  clergy  for  countenancing  them. 

You  do  not  seem  to  me  to  apprehend  the  drift  of  these  Tracts,  nor  the 
point  of  comparison  between  these  and  St.  Paul's  adversaries.  If  they 
merely  broached  one  opinion  and  I  combated  it,  it  might  be  doubted  which 
of  us  most  disturbed  the  peace  of  the  Church.  But  they  are  not  defending 
the  lawfulness  or  expediency  of  Episcopacy,  which  certainly  I  am  very  far 
from 'doubting,  but  its  necessity;  a  doctrine  in  ordinary  times  gratuitous, 
and  at  the  same  time  harmless,  save  as  a  folly.  But  now  the  object  is  to 
provoke  the  clergy  to  resist  the  Government  Church  Reforms,  and,  if  for  so 
resisting,  they  get  turned  out  of  their  livings,  to  maintain  that  they  are  the 
true  clergy,  and  their  successors  schismatics  ;  above  all,  if  the  Bishops  were 
deprived,  as  in  King  William's  time,  to  deny  the  authority  of  the  Bishops 
who  may  succeed  them,  though  appointed  according  to  the  law  of  the  land. 
All  this  is  essentially  schismatical  and  anarchical :  in  Elizabeth's  time  it 
would  have  been  reckoned  treasonable  ;  and  in  answering  it,  I  am  not  at- 
tacking Episcopacy,  or  the  present  constitution  of  the  English  Church,  but 
simply  defending  the  common  peace  and  order  of  the  Church  against  a  new 
outbreak  of  Puritanism,  which  will  endure  nothing  but  it's  own  platform. 

Now,  to  insist  on  the  necessity  of  Episcopacy,  is  exactly  like  insisting  on 
the  necessity  of  circumcision ;  both  are  and  were  lawful,  but  to  insist  upon 
either  as  necessary,  is  unchristian,  and  binding  the  Church  with  a  yoke  of 
carnal  ordinances ;  and  the  reason  why  circumcision,  although  expressly 
commanded  once,  was  declared  not  binding  upon  Christians,  is  much 
stronger  against  the  binding  nature  of  Episcopacy,  which  never  was  com- 
manded at  all ;  the  reason  being,  that  all  forms  of  government  and  ritual 
are  in  the  Christian  Church  indifferent  and  to  be  decided  by  the  Church 
itself,  pro  temporum  et  locorum  ratione,  "  the  Church"  not  being  the  clergy, 
but  the  congregation  of  Christians. 


LIFE   OP   DR.  ARNOLD. 


229 


If  you  will  refer  me  to  any  book  which  contains  what  you  think  the 
truth,  put  sensibly,  on  the  subject  of  the  Apostolical  Succession,  I  shall 
really  be  greatly  obliged  to  you  to  mention  it.  I  went  over  the  matter  again 
in  the  holidays  with  Warburton  and  Hooker ;  and  the  result  was  a  complete 
confirmation  of  the  views,  which  I  have  entertained  for  years,  and  a  more 
complete  appreciation  of  the  confusions  on  which  the  High  Church  doctrine 
rests,  and  of  the  causes  which  have  led  to  its  growth  at  different  times. 

By  the  way,  I  never  accused  Keble  or  Newman  of  saying,  that  to  belong 
to  a  true  Church  would  save  a  bad  man ;  but  of  what  is  equally  unchris- 
tian, that  a  good  man  was  not  safe  unless  he  belonged  to  an  Episcopal 
Church :  which  is  exactly  not  allowing  God's  seal  without  it  be  counter- 
signed by  one  of  their  own  forging.  Nor  did  I  say,  they  were  bad  men,  but 
much  the  contrary  ;  though  I  think  that  their  doctrine,  which  they  believe,  I 
doubt  not,  to  be  true,  is  in  itself  schismatical,  profane,  and  unchristian.  And 
I  think  it  highly  important  that  the  evils  of  the  doctrine  should  be  shown 
in  the  strongest  terms ;  but  no  word  of  mine  has  impeached  the  sincerity  or 
general  character  of  the  men ;  and,  in  this  respect,  I  will  carefully  avoid 
every  expression  that  may  be  thought  uncharitable. 


LXXX.      TO    W.    W.    HULL,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  April  30,  1834. 

.  .  .  j.  .  .  I  have  indeed  written  a  large  part  of  a  volume  on 
Church  and  State,  but  it  had  better  be  broken  up  into  smaller  portions  to 
be  published  at  first  separately,  though  afterwards  it  may  be  altogether. 
My  outline  of  the  whole  question  is  this : — I.  That  the  State,  being  the 
only  power  sovereign  over  human  life,  has  for  its  legitimate  object  the  hap- 
piness of  its  people, — their  highest  happiness,  not  physical  only,  but  intellec- 
tual and  moral ;  in  short,  the  highest  happiness  of  which  it  has  a  conception. 
This  was  held,  I  believe,  nearly  unanimously  till  the  eighteenth  century. 
Warburton,  the  Utilitarians,  and  I  fear  Whately,1  maintain,  on  the  contrary, 
that  the  State's  only  object  is  "the  conservation  of  body  and  goods."  They 
thus  play,  though  unintentionally,  into  the  hands  of  the  upholders  of  ecclesi- 
astical power,  by  destroying  the  highest  duty  and  prerogative  of  the  Com- 
monwealth. II.  Ecclesiastical  officers  may  be  regarded  in  two  lights  only, 
as^sovereign  or  independent ;  if  they  are  priests,  or  if  they  are  rulers.  A. 
Priests  are  independent,  as  deriving  either  from  supposed  holiness  of  race 
or  person,  or  from  their  exclusive  knowledge  of  the  Divine  Will,  a  title  to 
execute  certain  functions,  which  none  but  themselves  can  perform  ;  and 
therefore  these  functions,  being  of  prime  necessity,  enable  them  to  treat  with 
the  State  not  as  members  or  subjects  of  it,  but  as  foreigners  conferring  on 
it  a  benefit,  and  selling  this  on  their  own  terms.  J3.  Rulers,  of  course,  are 
independent  and  sovereign,  ipsa  vi  termini.  III.  But  the  ecclesiastical  offi- 
cers of  Christianity,  are  by  God's  appointment  neither  priests  nor  rulers. 
A.  Not  Priests,  for  there  is  one  only  Priest,  and  all  the  rest  are  brethren ; 
none  has  any  holiness  of  person  or  race  more  than  another,  none  has  any 
exclusive  possession  of  divine  knowledge.  B.  Not  Rulers,  for  Christianity 
not  being  a  &yt]oy.ti,a,  or  ritual  service,  but  extending  to  every  part  of  human 
life,  the  rulers  of  Christians,  qua  Christians,  must  rule  them  in  all  matters 
of  principle  and  practice ;  and,  if  this  power  be  given  to  Bishops,  Priests, 
and  Deacons  by  divine  appointment,  Innocent  the  Third  was  right,  and 
every  Christian  country  should  be  like  Paraguay.  You  shall  have  the  rest 
by  and  by ;  mean  time,  I  send  you  up  a  paper  about  the  Universities.  If 
you  like  it,  sign  it,  and  try  to  get  others  to  do  so ;  if  you  do  not,  burn  it. 

1  The  views  of  Archbishop  Whately  on  this  subject  were  afterwards  fully  set  forth  in 
the  4th  and  5th  Volumes  of  his  Essays. 


230 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


LXXXI.      TO    REV.   JULIUS    HARE. 

Rugby,  May  12,  1834. 

I  would  admit  Unitarians,  like  all  other  Christians,  if  the 

University  system  were  restored,  and  they  might  have  halls  of  their  own. 
Nay  I  would  admit  them  at  the  colleges  if  they  would  attend  chapel  and 
the  Divinity  Lectures,  which  some  of  them,  I  think,  would  do.  But  every 
thing  seems  to  me  falling  into  confusion  between  two  parties,  whose  igno- 
rance and  badness  I  believe  I  shrink  from  with  the  most  perfect  impartiality 
of  dislike.  I  must  petition  against  the  Jew  Bill,  and  wish  that  you  or  some 
man  like  you  would  expose  that  low  Jacobinical  notion  of  citizenship,  that  a 
man  acquires  a  right  to  it  by  the  accident  of  his  being  littered  inter  quatuor 
maria,  or  becauselie  pays  taxes.1  I  wish  I  had  the  knowledge  and  the  time 
to  state  fully  the  ancient  system  of  nd.Qoiy.oh  [iitoixoi,  &c,  and  the  principle 
on  which  it  rested ;  that  different  races  have  different  voftifta,  and  that  an 
indiscriminate  mixture  breeds  a  perfect  "  colluvio  omnium  rerum."  Now 
Christianity  gives  us  that  bond  perfectly,  which  race  in  the  ancient  world 
gave  illiberally  and  narrowly,  for  it  gives  a  common  standard  of  vofufia, 
without  observing  distinctions,  which  are,  in  fact,  better  blended. 

[This  letter,  as  well  as  the  preceding,  alludes  to  the  subjoined  declaration, 
circulated  by  him  for  signature.] 

"  The  undersigned  members  of  the  Universities  of  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge, many  of  them  being  engaged  in  education,  entertaining  a  strong 
sense  of  the  peculiar  benefits  to  be  derived  from  studying  at  the  Universities, 
cannot  but  consider  it  as  a  national  evil,  that  these  benefits  should  be  inac- 
cessible to  a  large  proportion  of  their  countrymen. 

"  While  they  feel  most  strongly  that  the  foundation  of  all  education  must 
be  laid  in  the  great  truths  of  Christianity,  and  would  on  no  account  consent 
to  omit  these,  or  to  teach  them  imperfectly,  yet  they  cannot  but  acknowledge, 
that  these  truths  are  believed  and  valued  by  the  great  majority  of  Dissen- 
ters no  less  than  by  the  Church  of  England  ;  and  that  every  essential  point 
of  Christian  instruction  may  be  communicated  without  touching  on  those 
particular  questions  on  which  the  Church  and  the  mass  of  Dissenters  are  at 

issue. 

"  And,  while  they  are  not  prepared  to  admit  such  Dissenters  as  differ 
from  the  Church  of  England  on  the  most  essential  points  of  Christian' 
truth,  such  as  the  modern  Unitarians  of  Great  Britian,  they  are  of  opinion, 
that  all  other  Dissenters  may  be  admitted  into  the  Universities,  and  allowed 
to  take  degrees  there  with  great  benefit  to  the  country,  and  to  the  probable 
advancement  of  Christian  truth  and  Christian  charity  amongst  members  of 
all  persuasions." 


LXXXII.      *  TO    H.    BALSTON,2   ESQ. 

Rugby,  May,  19,  1834. 

I  am  very  glad  that  you  continue  to  practise  composition, 

but  above  all  I  would  advise  you  to  make  an  abstract  of  one  or  two  stand- 

1  Extract  from  a  letter  to  Mr.  Sergeant  Coleridge.  "  The  correlative  to  taxation, 
in  my  opinion,  is  not  citizenship  but  protection.  Taxation  may  imply  representation 
quoad  hoc,  and  I  should  have  no  objection  to  let  the  Jews  tax  themselves  in  a  Jewish 
House  of  Assembly,  like  a  colony  or  like  the  clergy  of  old  ;  but  to  confound  the  right  of 
taxing  one's  self  with  the  right  of  general  legislation,  is  one  of  the  Jacobinical  confusions  of 
later  days,  arising  from  those  low  Warburtonian  notions  of  the  ends  of  political  society." 
See  also  Preface  to  his  Edition  of  Thucydides,  vol.  iii.  p.  xv. 

8  For  the  sake  of  convenience,  an  asterisk  has  been  prefixed  to  the  names  of  those 
correspondents  who  had  been  his  pupils  at  Rugby. 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


231 


ard  works.  One,  I  should  say,  in  philosophy ;  the  other  in  history.  I  would 
not  be  in  a  hurry  to  finish  them,  but  keep  them  constantly  going, — with  one 
page  always  clear  for  Notes.  The  abstract  itself  practises  you  in  condens- 
ing and  giving  in  your  own  words  what  another  man  has  said  ;  a  habit  of 
great  value,  as  it  forces  one  to  think  about  it,  which  extracting  merely  does  not. 
It  further  gives  a  brevity  and  simplicity  to  your  language,  two  of  the  great- 
est merits  which  style  can  have,  and  the  notes  give  you  an  opportunity  of  a 
great  deal  of  original  composition,  besides  a  constant  place  to  which  to  refer 
any  thing  that  you  may  read  in  other  books ;  for  having  such  an  abstract  on 
hand,  you  will  be  often  thinking  when  reading  other  books,  of  what  there 
may  be  in  them  which  will  bear  upon  your  abstract. 

The  latter  part  of  your  letter  I  very  heartily  thank  you  for :  it  is  a  great 
over-payment  of  any  exertions  of  mine  when  what  it  would  be  a  breach  of 
duty  in  me  to  omit,  is  received  so  kindly  and  gratefully.  At  the  same  time  I 
have  always  thought  that  it  was  quite  impossible  in  my  situation  to  avoid 
feeling  a  strong  personal  interest  in  most  of  those  whom  I  have  had  to  do 
with,  independently  of  professional  duty. 

I  shall  be  always  glad  to  see  you  or  to  hear  from  you.    • 


LXXXIII.      TO    W.    EMPSON,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  June  11,  1834. 

The  political  matters  on  which  you  touch,  are  to  me  of  such 

intense  interest,  that  I  think  they  would  kill  me  if  I  lived  more  in  the  midst 
of  them ;  unless,  as  was  said  to  be  the  case  with  the  Cholera,  they  would 
be  less  disturbing  when  near,  than  when  at  a  distance.  I  grieve  most 
deeply  at  this  ill-timed  schism  in  the  Ministry,  and,  as  men,  who  have  no 
familiarity  with  the  practice  of  politics,  may  yet  fancy  that  they  understand 
their  principles,  so  it  seems  to  me  that  both  Lord  Grey  and  the  seceders  are 
wrong.  We  are  suffering  here,  as  in  a  thousand  other  instances,  ftom  that 
accursed  division  between  Christians,  of  which  I  think  the  very  Arch-fiend 
must  be  xax  efcflfij*  the  author.  The  good  Protestants  and  bad  Christians 
have  talked  nonsense,  and  worse  than  nonsense  so  long  about  Popery,  and 
the  Beast  and  Antichrist,  ....  that  the  simple,  just  and  Christian 
measure  of  establishing  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  three-fifths  of  Ire- 
land seems  renounced  by  common  consent.  The  Protestant  clergy  ought 
not  to  have  their  present  revenues  in  Ireland — so  far  I  agree  with  Lord  Grey 
— but  not  on  a  low  economical  view  of  their  pay  being  over-proportioned 
to  their  work  ;  but  because  Church  property  is  one  of  the  most  sacred  trusts, 
of  which  the  sovereign  power  in  the  Church  (i.  e.  the  King  and  Parliament, 
not  the  Bishops  and  Clergy)  is  appointed  by  God  trustee.  It  is  a  property 
set  apart  for  the  advancement  of  direct  Christian  purposes,  first  by  furnish- 
ing religious  instruction  and  comfort  to  the  grown  up  part  of  the  population  ; 
next  by  furnishing  the  same  to  the  young  in  the  shape  of  religious  educa- 
tion. Now  the  Christian  people  of  Ireland,  i.  e.  in  my  sense  of  the  word  the 
Church  of  Ireland,  have  a  right  to  have  the  full  benefit  of  their  Church 
property,  which  now  they  cannot  have,  because  Protestant  clergymen  they 
will  not  listen  to.  I  think,  then,  that  it  ought  to  furnish  them  with  Catholic 
clergymen,  and  the  general  local  separation  of  the  Catholic  and  Protestant 
districts  would  render  this  as  easy  to  effect  in  Ireland  as  it  was  in  Switzer- 
land, where,  after  their  bloody  religious  wars  of  the  sixteenth  century,  certain 
parishes  in  some  of  the  Cantons,  where  the  religions  were  intermixed,  were 
declared  Protestant  and  others  Cotholic  ;  and,  if  a  man  turned  Catholic  in  a 
Protestant  parish,  he  was  to  migrate  to  a  Catholic  parish,  and  vice  vers&. 
If  this  cannot  be  done  yet,  then  religious  grammar  schools,  Catholic  and 
Protestant,  such  as  were  founded  in  England  so  numerously  after  the  Refor- 
mation, would  be  the  next  best  thing ;  but,  whilst  Ireland  continues  in  its 


232  LIFE  0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

present  low  state  of  knowledge  and  religion,  I  cannot  think  that  one  penny 
of  its  Church  property  ought  to  be  applied  to  the  merely  physical  or  ordi- 
nary objects  of  government.  I  have  one  great  principle,  which  I  never  lose 
sight  of;  to  insist  strongly  on  the  difference  between  Christian  and  non- 
christian,  and  to  sink  into  nothing  the  differences  between  Christian  and 
Christian.  I  am  sure  that  this  is  in  the  spirit  of  the  Scriptures  :  I  think  it  is 
also  most  philosophical  and  liberal ;  but  all  the  world  quarrels  either  with 
one  half  of  my  principle  or  with  the  other,  whereas  I  think  they  stand  and 
fall  together.  I  know  not  whether  Mr.  Spring  Rice  takes  a  strong  interest 
in  questions  concerning  education,  but  I  am  very  anxious — the  more  so  from 
the  confusions  prevailing  about  the  nature  of  the  Universities— that  the 
Universities  should  be  restored,  that  is,  that  the  usurpation  of  the  Heads  of 
the  colleges  should  be  put  down,  according  to  those  excellent  articles  of  Sir 
W.  Hamilton's  which  appeared  in  the  Edinburgh  Review  some  time  since. 
I  think  that  this  is  even  more  important  than  the  admission  of  the  Dissenters. 
And  also,  if  ever  the  question  of  National  education  comes  definitely  before 
the  government,  I  am  very  desirous  of  their  not  "  centralizing"  too  much, 
but  availing  themselves  of  the  existing  machinery,  which  might  be  done  to 
a  great  extent,  with  very  little  expense,  and  none  of  that  interference  with 
private  institutions,  or  even  with  foundations,  of  which  there  is  so  great, 
and  I  think  in  some  respects,  a  reasonable  fear.  But  I  will  conclude  and 
release  you. 


LXXXIV.      TO    REV.    DR.    LONGLEY. 

Rugby,  June  25,  1634. 

Though  sorry  that  you  did  not  concur  with  my  views,  yet  I  was  not  much 
surprised,  being  long  since  used  to  find  myself  in  a  minority  on  those  mat- 
ters. Yet  I  do  not  see  how  any  man  can  avoid  the  impression  that  Dissent 
cannot  exist  much  longer  in  this  country,  as  it  does  now  ;  either  it  must  be 
comprehended  within  the  Church,  or  it  will  cease  in  another  way,  by  there 
being  no  Establishment  left  to  dissent  from.  And,  as  I  think  that  men  will 
never  be  wise  and  good  enough  for  the  first,  so  I  see  every  thing  tending 
towards  the  second ;  and  this  fancied  reaction  in  favour  of  the  High  Church 
party  seems  to  me  the  merest  illusion  in  the  world ;  it  is  like  that  phantom, 
which  Minerva  sent  to  Hector  to  tempt  him  to  his  fate,  by  making  him 
believe  that  Deiphobus  was  at  hand  to  help  him. 

Meantime,  our  little  commonwealth  here  goes  on  very  quietly,  and  I  think 
satisfactorily.  I  have  happily  more  power  than  Lord  Grey's  government, 
and  neither' Radicals  to  call  for  more  nor  Tories  to  call  for  less,  and  so  I  can 
rel'orm  or  forbear  at  my  own  discretion I  find  West- 
moreland very  convenient  in  giving  me  an  opportunity  of  having  some  of 
the  Sixth  Form  with  me  in  the  holidays;  not  to  read  of  course,  but  to 
refresh  their  health  when  they  get  knocked  up  by  the  work,  and  to  show 
them  mountains  and  dales ;  a  great  point  in  education,  and  a  great  desidera- 
tum to  those,  who  only  know  the  central  or  southern  counties  of  England. 
I  must  ask  your  congratulations  on  having  finished  Thucydides.  of  which 
the  last  volume  will  appear,  I  hope,  in  October.  I  have  just  completed  the 
Eighth  Book,  and  hope  now  to  set  vigorously  to  work  about  the  Roman 
History. 


LXXXV.   TO  THE  ARCHBISHOP  OF  DUBLIN. 

Rugby,  July  2,  1834. 

I  must  write  to  thank    you  for   your   Charge,  which   delighted   me. 
....  It  is  delightful  to  read  a  Charge,  without  any  folly  in  it,  and 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


233 


written  so  heartily  in  the  spirit  of  a  Christian  Episcopacy,  for  which  I  have 
always  had  a  great  respect,  though  not  exactly  after  the  fashion  of  Keble 
and  Newman.  I  trust,  if  it  please  God,  that  we  shall  meet  this  summer ; 
and  it  is  truly  kind  in  you  to  try  to  make  your  arrangements  suit  ours. 

I  shall  bring  over  to  you  my  beginning  of"  the  State  and  the 

Church,"  which  I  shall  like  to  talk  over  with  you The  other  day, 

slept  at  our  house,  and  fairly  asked  me  for  my  opinion  about  the  con- 
nexion of  Church  and  State,  which  I  gave  him  at  some  length  ;  and  I  found, 
as  indeed  he  confessed,  that  the  subject  was  one  on  which  his  ideas  were  all  at 
sea  ;  and  he  expressed  a  great  earnestness  that  something  should  be  written 
on  the  subject  before  the  next  Session  of  Parliament.  He  did  not  know,  and  I 
think  it  is  a  common  complaint,  the  Statutes  passed  about  the  Church  in 
Henry  the  Eighth's  and  Edward  the  Sixth's  reigns,  and  which  are  still  the 
ao^ai  of  its  constitution,  if  that  may  be  said  to  have  a  constitution  which  never 
was  constituted,  but  was  left  as  avowedly  unfinished  as  Cologne  Cathedral, 
where  they  left  a  crane  standing  on  one  of  the  half-built  towers,  three  hundred 
years  ago,  and  have  renewed  the  crane  from  time  to  time,  as  it  wore  out, 
as  a  sign  not  only  that  the  building  was  incomplete,  but  that  the  friends  of 
the  Church  hoped  to  finish  the  work  whenever  they  could.  Had  it  been  in 
England,  the  crane  would  have  been  speedily  destroyed,  and  the  friends  of 
the  Church  would  have  said  that  the  Church  was  finished  perfectly  already, 
and  that  none  but  its  enemies  would  dare  to  suggest  that  it  wanted  any 
thing  to  complete  its  symmetry  and  usefulness. 

I  have  been  writing  two  sermons  on  the  Evidences, — 1st,  of  Natural 
Religion, — and  2nd,  of  Christianity,  intended  for  the  use  of  those  of  my  boys 
who  are  now  leaving  us  for  College.  I  mean,  if  I  live,  to  preach  a  third 
next  Sunday,  on  the  differences  between  Christians  and  Christians,  which, 
as  our  two  Examiners  will  hear  it,  both  of  whom  have  published  pamphlets 
against  the  Dissenters,  will  not,  I  suspect,  be  very  agreeable  to  them.  We 
are  all  very  well,  and  rather  desire  our  mountains,  though  all  things  have 
gone  on  very  pleasantly  so  far;  but  the  half  year  is  a  long  one  certainly. 
Do  you  know  that  we  have  got  a  sort  of  Mechanics'  or  Tradesmen's  Institu- 
tion in  Rugby ;  where  I  have  been  Lecturing  twice  upon  History,  and 
drawing  two  great  charts,  and  colouring  them  to  illustrate  my  lecture.  I 
drew  one  chart  of  the  History  of  England  and  France  for  the  last  350  years, 
colouring  red  the  periods  of  the  wars  of  each  country,  black  the  periods  of 
civil  war,  and  a  bright  yellow  line  at  the  side,  to  show  the  periods  of 
constitutional  government,  with  patches  of  brown,  to  indicate  seasons  of 
great  distress,  &c.  I  have  some  thoughts  of  having  them  lithographed  for 
general  use. 


LXXXVI.      TO    A    PERSON    WHO    HAD    ONCE,  BEEN    HIS    LANDLORD, 

And  was  ill  of  a  painful   disorder,  but  refused  to  Bee  the  clergyman  of  the  parish,  or  allow  his  friends, 
to  address  him  on  religious  subjects. 

I  was  very  sorry  to  see  you  in  such  a  state  of  suffering,  and  to  hear  from: 
your  friends  that  you  were  so  generally.  I  do  not  know  that  I  have  any  title 
to  write  to  you ;  but  you  once  let  me  speak  to  you,  when  I  was  your  tenant, 
about  a  subject,  on  which  I  took  it  very  kind  that  you  heard  me  patiently, 
and  trusting  to  that,  I  am  venturing  to  write  to  you  again. 

I  have  myself  been  blessed  with  very  constant  health  ;  yet  I  have  been  led 
to  think  from  time  to  time,  what  would  be  my  greatest  support  and  comfort,  if 
it  should  please  God  to  visit  me  either  with  a  very  painful  or  a  very  danger- 
ous illness ;  and  I  have  always  thought,  that  in  both,  nothing  would  do  me 
so  much  good,  as  to  read,  over  and  over  again,  the  account  of  the  sufferings 
and  death  of  Christ,  as  given  in  the  different  Gospels.  For,  if  it  be  a  painful 
complaint,  we  shall  find  that  in  mere  pain,  He  suffered  most  severely  and  in 
a  great  variety  of  ways ;  and.  if  it  be  a  dangerous  complaint,  then  we  shall 

16 


23  {  LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

see  that  Christ  suffered  very  greatly  from  the  fear  of  death,  and  was  very 
sorely  troubled  in  His  mind  up  to  the  very  time  almost  of  His  actual  dying. 
And  one  great  reason,  why  He  bore  all  this,  was  that  we  might  be  supported 
and  comforted  when  we  have  to  bear  the  same. 

But  when  I  have  thought  how  this  would  comfort  me,  it  is  very  true  that 
one  cannot  help  thinking  of  the  great  difference  between  Christ  and  oneself 
— that  He  was  so  good,  and  that  we  are  so  full  of  faults  and  bad  passions  of 
one  kind  or  another.  So  that  if  He  feared  death,  we  must  have  greater  rea- 
son to  fear  it :  and  so  indeed  we  have  were  it  not  for  Him.  But  He  bore  all 
His  sufferings,  that  God  might  receive  us  after  our  death,  as  surely  as  He 
received  Christ  Himself.  And  surely  it  is  a  comfort  above  all  comfort,  that 
we  are  not  only  suffering  no  more  than  Christ  suffered,  but  that  we  shall  be 
happy  after  our  sufferings  are  over,  as  truly  as  He  is  happy. 

Dear  Mr. ,  there  is  nothing  in  the  world,  which  hinders  you  or  me 

from  having  this  comfort,  but  the  badness  and  hardness  of  our  hearts,  which 
will  not  let  us  open  ourselves  heartily  to  God's  love  towards  us.  He  desires 
to  love  us  and  to  keep  us,  but  we  shut  up  ourselves  from  Him,  and  keep  our- 
selves in  fear  and  misery,  because  we  will  not  receive  His  goodness.  Oh  ! 
how  heartily  we  should  pray  for  one  another,  and  for  ourselves,  that  God 
would  teach  us  to  love  Him,  and  be  thankful  to  Him,  as  He  loves  us.  We 
cannot,  indeed,  love  God,  if  we  keep  any  evil  or  angry  passion  within  us. 
If  we  do  not  forgive  all  who  may  have  wronged  or  affronted  us,  God  has  de- 
clared most  solemnly  that  He  will  not  forgive  us.  There  is  no  concealing 
this,  or  getting  away  from  it.  If  we  cannot  forgive,  we  cannot  be  forgiven. 
But  when  I  think  of  God's  willingness  to  forgive  me  every  day, — though 
every  day  I  offend  Him  many  times  over — it  makes  me  more  disposed  than 
any  thing  else  in  the  world,  to  forgive  those  who  have  offended  me  :  and 
this,  I  think,  is  natural ;  unless  our  hearts  are  more  hard,  than  with  all  our 
faults  they  commonly  are.  If  you  think  me  taking  a  liberty  in  writing  this, 
I  can  only  beg  you  to  remember,  that  as  I  hope  Christ  will  save  me,  so  He 
bids  me  try  to  bring  my  neighbors  to  Him  also ;  and  especially  those  whom 
I  have  known,  and  from  whom  I  have  received  kindness.  May  Christ  save 
us  both,  and  turn  our  hearts  to  love  Him  and  our  neighbors,  even  as  He  has 
loved  us,  and  has  died  for  us. 


LXXXVII.      TO    HIS    AUNT,    MRS.    FRANCES    DELAFIELD, 
(On  her  77th  birthday.) 

Rugby,  September  10th,  1834. 

This  is  your  birthday,  on  which  I  have  thought  of  you,  and  loved  you, 
for  as  many  years  past  as  I  can  remember.  No  10th  of  September  will  ever 
pass  without  my  thinking  of  you  and  loving  you.  I  pray  that  God  will  keep 
you,  through  Jesus  Christ,  with  all  blessing,  under  every  trial,  which  your 
age  may  bring  upon  you  ;  and  if,  through  Christ,  we  meet  together  after  the 
Resurrection,  there  will  then  be  nothing  of  old  or  young — of  healthy  or  sickly 
— of  clear  memory,  or  of  confused — but  we  shall  be  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus. 


LXXXVIII.       TO    CHEVALIER    BUNSEN. 

Rugby,  September  29,  1834. 

Your  encouragement  of  my  Roman  History  is  the  most 

■cheering  thing  I  have  ever  had  to  excite  me  to  work  upon  it.  I  am  work- 
ing a  little  on  the  materials,  and  have  got  Orelli's  "  Inscriptiones,"  and 
Haubold's  "  Monumenta  Legalia,"  which  seem  both  very  useful  works. 
But  I  am  stopped  at  every  turn  by  my  ignorance ;  for  instance,  what  is 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD 


235 


known  of  the  Illyrians,  the  great  people  that  were  spread  from  the  borders 
of  Greece  to  the  Danube  ?  — what  were  their  race  and  language  ?  — and 
what  is  known  of  all  their  country  at  this  moment?  I  imagine  that  even  the 
Austrian  provinces  of  Dalmatia  are  imperfectly  known ;  and  who  has  ex- 
plored the  details  of  Mcesia  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  a  Roman  History  should 
embrace  the  history  of  every  people,  with  whom  the  Romans  were  suc- 
cessively concerned ;  not  so  as  to  go  into  all  the  details,  which  are  gene- 
rally worthless,  but  yet  so  as  to  give  something  of  a  notion  of  the  great 
changes,  both  physical  and  moral,  which  the  different  parts  of  the  world 
have  undergone.  How  earnestly  one  desires  to  present  to  one's  mind  a  peo- 
pled landscape  of  Gaul,  or  Germany,  or  Britain,  before  Rome  encountered 
them;  to  picture  the  freshness  of  the  scenery,  when  all  the  earth's  resources 
were  as  yet  untouched,  as  well  as  the  peculiar  form  of  the  human  species  in 
that  particular  country,  its  language,  its  habits,  its  institutions.  And  yet, 
these  indulgences  of  our  intellectual  faculties  match  strangely  with  the  fe- 
ver of  our  times,  and  the  pressure  for  life  and  death  which  is  going  on  all 
round  us.  The  disorders  in  our  social  state  appear  to  me  to  continue  una- 
bated ;  and  you  know  what  trifles  mere  political  grievances  are.  when  com- 
pared with  these.  Education  is  wanted  to  improve  the  physical  condition 
of  the  people,  and  yet  their  physical  condition  must  be  improved  before  they 
can  be  susceptible  of  education.  I  hear  that  the  Roman  Catholics  are  in- 
creasing fast  amongst  us;  Lord  Shrewsbury  and  other  wealthy  Catholics  are 
devoting  their  whole  incomes  to  the  cause,  while  the  tremendous  influx  of 
Irish  labourers  into  Lancashire  and  the  west  of  Scotland  is  tainting  the  whole 
population  with  a  worse  than  barbarian  element.  You  have  heard  also,  I 
doubt  not,  of  the  Trades'  Unions,  a  fearful  engine  of  mischief,  ready  to  riot 
or  to  assassinate,  with  all  the  wickedness,  that  has  in  all  ages  and  in  all 
countries  characterized  associations  not  recognized  by  the  law, — the  itouoiat, 
of  Athens,  the  clubs  of  Paris ; — and  I  see  no  counteracting  power.   .     .     . 

I  shall  look  forward  with  the  greatest  interest  to  your  "  Kirchen-und- 
Haus  Buch  ;"  I  never  cease  to  feel  the  benefit  which  I  have  derived  from 
your  letter  to  Dr.  Nott ;  the  view  there  contained  of  Christian  worship  and 
of  Christian  Sacrifice  as  the  consummation  of  that  worship  is  to  my  mind 
quite  perfect.  What  would  I  give  to  see  our  Liturgy  amended  on  that  mo- 
del !  But  our  Bishops  cry  "  Touch  not,  meddle  not,"  till  indeed  it  will  be 
too  late  to  do  either.  I  have  been  much  delighted  with  two  American 
works  which  have  had  a  large  circulation  in  England  ;  the  <;  Young  Chris- 
tion,"  and  the  "  Corner  Stone,"  by  a  New  Englander,  Jacob  Abbott.  They 
are  very  original  and  powerful,  and  the  American  illustrations,  whether  bor- 
rowed from  the  scenery  or  the  manners  of  the  people,  are  very  striking. 
And  I  hear  both  from  India  and  the  Mediterranean,  the  most  deligtful  ac- 
counts of  the  zeal  and  resources  of  the  American  Missionaries,  that  none 
are  doing  so  much  in  the  cause  of  Christ  as  they  are.  They  will  take  our 
place  in  the  world,  I  think  not  unworthily,  though  with  far  less  advantages 
in  many  respects,  than  those  which  we  have  so  fatally  wasted.  It  is  a  con- 
trast most  deeply  humiliating  to  compare  what  we  might  have  been  with 
what  we  are,  with  almost  Israel's  privileges,  and  with  all  Israel's  abuse  of 
them.  I  could  write  on  without  limit,  if  my  time  were  as  unlimited  as  my 
inclinations  ;  it  is  vain  to  say  what  I  would  give  to  talk  with  you  on  a  great 
many  points,  though  your  letters  have  done  more  than  I  should  have  thought 
possible  towards  enabling  me  in  a  manner  to  talk  with  you.  I  feel  no  doubt 
of  our  agreement,  indeed  it  would  make  me  very  unhappy  to  doubt  it,  for  I 
am  sure  our  principles  are  the  same,  and  they  ought  to  lead  to  the  same  con- 
clusions. And  so  I  think  they  do.  God  bless  you,  my  dear  friend ;  I  do 
trust  to  see  you  again  ere  very  long. 


236  LIFE   0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

LXXXIX.       TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.       (A.) 

Rugby,  October  29, 1634. 

I  thank  you  very  much  for  your  letter;  I  need  not  tell  you  that  it  greatly 
interested  me,  at  the  same  time  that  it  also  in  some  respects  has  pained  me. 
I  do  grieve  that  you  do  not  enjoy  Oxford ;  it  is  not,  as  you  well  know,  that 
I  admire  the  present  tone  of  the  majority  of  its  members,  or  greatly  respect 
their  judgment,  still  there  is  much  that  is  noble  and  good  about  the  place, 
and  you,  I  should  have  hoped,  might  have  benefited  by  the  good,  and  es- 
caped the  folly.  If  you  have  got  your  views  for  your  course  of  life  into  a 
definite  shape,  so  as  to  see  your  way  clear  before  you,  and  this  course  is 
wholly  at  variance  with  the  studies  of  a  University,  then  there  is  nothing  to 
be  said,  except  that  I  am  sorry  and  surprised,  and  should  be  very  anxious  to 
learn  what  your  views  are.  But  if  you  look  forward  to  any  of  what  are 
called  the  learned  professions,  and  wish  still  to  carry  on  the  studies  of  a  well 
educated  man,  depend  upon  it  that  you  are  in  the  right  place  where  you  are, 
and  have  greater  means  within  your  reach  there,  than  you  can  readily  ob- 
tain elsewhere.  University  distinctions  are  a  great  starting  point  in  life ; 
they  introduce  a  man  well,  nay,  they  even  add  to  his  influence  afterwards. 
At  this  moment,  when  I  write  what  is  against  the  common  opinion  of  people 
at  Oxford,  they  would  be  too  happy  to  say,  that  I  objected  to  their  system, 
because  I  had  not  tried  it,  or  had  not  succeeded  in  it.  Consider  that  a  young 
man  has  no  means  of  becoming  independent  of  the  society  about  him.  If 
you  wish  to  exercise  influence  hereafter,  begin  by  distinguishing  yourself 
in  the  regular  way,  not  by  seeming  to  prefer  a  separate  way  of  your  own. 
It  is  not  the  natural  order  of  things,  nor,  I  think,  the  sound  one.  I  knew 
a  man  at  Oxford  sixteen  years  ago,  very  clever,  but  one  who  railed  against 
the  place  and  its  institutions,  and  would  not  read  for  a  class.  And  this  man, 
I  am  told,  is  now  a  zealsus  Conservative,  and  writes  in  the  British  Magazine. 

As  to  your  disappointment  in  society,  I  really  am  afraid  to  touch  on  the 
subject  without  clearer  knowledge.  But  you  should,  I  am  sure,  make  an  ef- 
fort to  speak  out,  as  I  am  really  grateful  for  your  having  written  out  to  me. 
Reserve  and  fear  of  committing  oneself  are,  beyond  a  certain  point,  positive 
evils ;  a  man  had  better  expose  himself  half  a  dozen  times,  than  be  shut  up 
always ;  and  after  all,  it  is  not  exposing  yourself,  for  no  one  can  help  valuing 
and  loving  what  seems  an  abandonment  to  feelings  of  sympathy,  especially 
when,  from  the  character  of  him  who  thus  opens  his  heart,  the  effort  is  known 
to  be  considerable.  I  am  afraid  that  I  may  be  writing  at  random ;  only  be- 
lieve me  that  I  feel  very  deeply  interested  about  you,  and  perhaps  have  more 
sympathy  with  your  case,  than  many  a  younger  man;  for  the  circumstances 
of  my  life  have  kept  me  young  in  feelings,  and  the  period  of  twenty  years 
ago  is  as  vividly  present  to  my  mind,  as  though  it  were  a  thing  of  yesterday. 


XC.      TO     T.    F.  ELLIS,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  November  21,  1634. 

I  was  very  glad  to  see  your  handwriting  once  again,  and  shall  be  very 
ready  to  answer  your  question  to  the  best  of  my  power,  although  I  am  well 
aware  of  its  difficulty.  It  so  happens  that  I  have  said  something  on  this 
very  subject  in  the  Introduction  to  the  new  volume  of  my  Sermons,  which 
is  just  published,  so  that  it  has  been  much  in  my  thoughts  lately,  though  I 
am  afraid  it  is  easier  here,  as  in  other  things,  to  point  out  what  is  of  no  use, 
than  to  recommend  what  is. 

The  preparation  for  ordination,  so  far  as  passing  the  Bishop's  examination 
is  concerned,  must  vary  according  to  the  notions  of  the  different  Bishops, 
gome  requiring  one  thing,  and  some  another.     I  like  no  book  on  the  Articles 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


237 


altogether,  but  Hey's  Divinity  Lectures  at  Cambridge  seem  to  me  the  beet 
and  fairest  of  any  that  I  know  of. 

But  with  regard  to  the  much  higher  question,  "  What  line  of  study  is  to 
be  recommended  for  a  clergyman  ?"  my  own  notions  are  very  decided, 
though  I  am  afraid  they  are  somewhat  singular.  A  clergyman's  profession 
is  the  knowledge  and  practice  of  Christianity,  with  no  more  particular  pro- 
fession to  distract  his  attention  from  it.  While  all  men,  therefore,  should 
study  the  Scriptures,  he  should  study  them  thoroughly :  because  from  them 
only  is  the  knowledge  of  Christianity  to  be  obtained.  And  they  are  to  be 
studied  with  the  help  of  philological  works  and  antiquarian,  not  of  dog- 
matical theology.  But  then  for  the  application  of  the  Scriptures,  for  preach- 
ing, &c,  a  man  requires,  first,  the  general  cultivation  of  his  mind,  by  con- 
stantly reading  the  works  of  the  very  greatest  writers,  philosophers,  orators, 
and  poets  ;  and,  next,  an  understanding  of  the  actual  state  of  society — of  our 
own  and  of  general  history,  as  affecting  and  explaining  the  existing  differ- 
ences amongst  us,  both  social  and  religious, — and  of  political  economy,  as 
teaching  him  how  to  deal  with  the  poor,  and  how  to  remove  many  of  the 
natural  delusions  which  embitter  their  minds  against  the  actual  frame  of 
society.  Further,  I  should  advise  a  constant  use  of  the  biography  of  good 
men ;  their  inward  feelings,  prayers,  &c,  and  of  devotional  and  practical 
works,  like  Taylor's  Holy  Living,  Doddridge's  Rise  and  Progress  of  Religion 
in  the  Soul.  &c,  &c.  About  Ecclesiastical  History,  there  is  a  great  dif- 
ficulty. I  do  not  know  Waddington's  book  well,  but  the  common  histories, 
Mosheim,  Milner,  Dupin,  &c,  are  all  bad :  so  is  Fleury,  except  the  Disser- 
tations prefixed  to  several  of  his  volumes,  and  which  ought  to  be  published 
separately.  For  our  own  Church  again,  the  truth  lies  in  a  well ;  Strype, 
with  all  his  accuracy,  is  so  weak  and  so  totally  destitute  of  all  sound  views 
of  government,  that  it  is  positively  injurious  to  a  man's  understanding  to  be 
long  engaged  in  so  bad  an  atmosphere.  Burnet  is  much  better  in  every 
way,  yet  he  is  not  a  great  man ;  and  I  suppose  that  the  Catholic  and  Pu- 
ritan writers  are  as  bad  or  worse.  As  commentators  on  the  Scriptures,  I 
should  recommend  Lightfoot  and  Grotius ;  the  former,  from  his  great  Rab- 
binical learning,  is  often  a  most  admirable  illustrator  of  allusions  and  obscure 
passages  in  both  the  Old  and  New  Testament ;  the  latter,  alike  learned  and 
able  and  honest,  is  always  worth  reading.  But  I  like  Pole's  Synopsis  Cri- 
ticorum  altogether,  and  the  fairness  of  the  collection  is  admirable.  For 
Hebrew,  Gesenius's  Lexicon  and  Stuart's  Grammar  are  recommended  to 
me,  but  I  cannot  judge  of  them  myself.  Schleusner's  well  known  Lexicons 
for  the  Septuagint  and  New  Testament  are  exceedingly  valuable  as  an  index 
verborum,  but  his  interpretations  are  not  to  be  relied  on,  and  he  did  not 
belong  to  the  really  great  school  of  German  philology 


XCI.       *  TO    H.    HIGHTON,    ESQ.. 

Rugby,  November  2G,  1834. 

I  have  not  time  to  send  you  a  regular  letter  in  answer,  but  you  wish  to 
hear  my  opinion  about  the  Rugby  Magazine  before  Lake  leaves  Oxford.  I 
told  him  that  what  I  wanted  to  know,  was,  in  whose  hands  the  conduct  of 
the  work  would  be  placed.  Every  thing  depends  on  this  ;  and  as,  on  the 
one  hand,  if  the  editors  are  discreet  and  inexorable  in  rejecting  trash,  I  should 
be  delighted  to  have  such  a  work  established,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  if  they 
do  admit  trash,  or  worse  still,  any  thing  like  local  or  personal  scandal  or  gos- 
sip, the  Magazine  would  be  a  serious  disgrace  to  us  all.  And  I  think  men 
owe  it  to  the  name  of  a  school  not  to  risk  it  lightly,  as  of  course  a  Magazine 
called  by  the  name  of"  Rugby"  would  risk  it.  Again,  I  should  most  depre- 
cate it,  if  it  were  political,  for  many  reasons  which  you  can  easily  conceive 


238  L1FE  0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

yourself.  I  do  not  wish  to  encourage  the  false  notion  of  my  making  or  try- 
ing to  make  the  school  political.  This  would  be  done,  were  the  Magazine 
liberal ;  if  otherwise,  I  should  regret  it  on  other  grounds.  If  the  editors  are 
good,  and  the  plan  well  laid  down  and  steadily  kept  to,  I  shall  think  the 
Magazine  a  most  excellent  thing,  both  for  the  credit  of  the  school,  and  for 
its  real  benefit.  Only  remember  that  the  result  of  such  an  attempt  cannot 
be  neutral ;  it  must  either  do  us  great  good  or  great  harm. 


XCII.       TO    REV.    J.    HEARN. 

Fox  How   Dec.  31  1634. 

It  delights  me  to  find  that  so  good  a  man  as  Mr.  H.  thinks 

very  well  of  the  new  Poor  Law,  and  anticipates  very  favourable  results  from 
it,  but  I  cannot  think  that  this  or  any  other  single  measure  can  do  much 
towards  the  cure  of  evils  so  complicated.  I  groan  over  the  divisions  of  the 
Church,  of  all  our  evils  I  think  the  greatest, — of  Christ's  Church  I  mean, — 
that  men  should  call  themselves  Roman  Catholics,  Church  of  England  men. 
Baptists,  Quakers,  all  sorts  of  various  appellations,  forgetting  that  only  glo- 
rious name  of  Christian,  which  is  common  to  all,  and  a  true  bond  of  union. 
I  begin  now  to  think  that  things  must  be  worse  before  they  are  better,  and 
that  nothing  but  some  great  pressure  from  without  will  make  Christians  cast 
away  their  idols  of  Sectarianism  ;  the  worst  and  most  mischievous  by  which 
Christ's  Church  has  ever  been  plagued. 


XCIU.       TO  MR.  JUSTICE  COLERIDGE. 

Fox  How,  January  24,  1635. 

I  do  not  know  when  I  have  been  so  much  delighted  as  by  a  paragraph 
in  the  Globe  of  this  morning,  which  announced  your  elevation  to  the  Bench. 
Your  late  letters,  while  they  in  some  measure  prepared  me  for  it,  have  made 
me  still  more  rejoice  in  it,  because  they  told  me  how  acceptable  it  would  be 
to  yourself.  I  do  heartily  and  entirely  rejoice  at  it,  on  public  grounds  no 
less  than  on  private ;  as  an  appointment  honourable  to  the  government,  be- 
neficial to  the  public  service,  and  honourable  and  desirable  for  yourself;  and 
I  have  some  selfish  pleasure  about  it  also,  inasmuch  as  I  hope  that  I  shall 
have  some  better  chance  of  seeing  you  now  than  I  have  had  hitherto,  either 
in  Warwickshire  or  in  Westmoreland.  For  myself,  when  I  am  here  in  this 
perfection  of  beauty,  with  the  place  just  coming  into  shape,  and  the  young 
plantations  naturally  leading  one  to  anticipate  the  future,  I  am  inclined  to 
feel  nothing  but  joy  that  the  late  change  of  Government  has  destroyed  all 
chance  of  my  being  ever  called  away  from  Westmoreland.  At  least  I  can 
say  this,  that  T  should  only  have  valued  a  Bishopric  as  giving  me  some 
prospect  of  effecting  that  Church  Reform  which  I  so  earnestly  long  for, — 
the  commencement  of  an  union  with  all  Christians,  and  of  a  true  Church 
government  as  distinguished  from  a  Clergy  government,  or  from  none  at  all. 
For  this  I  would  sacrifice  any  thing ;  but  as  for  a  Bishopric  on  the  actual 
system,  and  with  no  chance  of  mending  it,  it  would  only  make  me  feel  more 
strongly  than  I  do  at  present  the  tyQiovriv  oduvyv,  nolla.  cpooviorra,  firjd'ivbq 
xqctTifiv. 

Wordsworth  is  very  well ;  postponing  his  new  volume  of  poems  till  the 
political  ferment  is  somewhat  abated.  "  At  ille  labitur  et  labetur,"  so  far  as  I 
can  foresee,  notwithstanding  what  the  Tories  have  gained  at  the  late  elections. 

Have  you  seen  your  Uncle's  "  Letters  on  Inspiration,"  which  I  believe 
are  to  be  published?  They  are  well  fitted  to  break  ground  in  the  approaches 
to  that  momentous  question  which  involves  in  it  so  great  a  shock  to  existing 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  239 

notions  ;  the  greatest  probably,  that  has  ever  been  given  since  the  discovery 
of  the  falsehood  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Pope's  infallibility.  Yet  it  must 
come,  and  will  end,  in  spite  of  the  fears  and  clamours  of  the  weak  and 
bigoted,  in  the  higher  exalting  and  more  sure  establishing  of  Christian 
•truth. 


XCIV.       TO    REV.    JULIUS    HARE. 

Fox  How,  January  26,  1835. 

I  cordially  enter  into  your  views  about  a  Theological  Review,  and  I  think 
the  only  difficulty  would  be  to  find  an  Editor  ;  I  do  not  think  that  Whately 
would  have  time  to  write,  but  I  can  ask  him  ;  and  undoubtedly  he  would  ap- 
prove of  the  scheme.  Hampden  occurs  to  me  as  a  more  likely  man  to  join 
such  a  thing  than  Pusey,  and  I  think  I  know  one  or  two  of  the  younger 
masters  who  would  be  very  useful.  My  notion  of  the  main  objects  of  the 
work  would  be  this  ;  1st.  To  give  really  fair  accounts  and  analyses  of  the 
works  of  the  early  Christian  Writers,  giving  also,  as  far  as  possible,  a  correct 
view  of  the  critical  questions  relating  to  them  ;  as  to  their  genuineness,  and 
the  more  or  less  corrupted  state  of  the  text.  2d.  To  make  some  beginnings  ol 
Biblical  Criticism,  which,  as  far  as  relates  to  the  Old  Testament,  is  in  England 
almost  non-existent.  3d.  To  illustrate  in  a  really  impartial  spirit,  with  no 
object  but  the  advancement  of*  the  Church  of  Christ,  and  the  welfare  of  the 
Commonwealth  of  England,  the  rise  and  progress  of  Dissent;  to  show 
what  Christ's  Church  and  this  nation  have  owed  to  the  Establishment  and 
to  the  Dissenters;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  what  injury  they  have  received 
from  each;  with  a  view  of  promoting  a  real  union  between  them.  These 
are  matters  particular,  but  all  bearing  upon  the  great  philosophical  and 
Christian  truth,  which  seems  to  me  the  very  truth  of  truths,  that  Christian 
unity  and  the  perfection  of  Christ's  Church  are.  independent  of  theological 
Articles  of  opinion  ;  consisting  in  a  certain  moral  state  and' moral  and  reli- 
gious affections,  which  have  existed  in  good  Christians  of  all  ages  and  all 
communions,  along  with  an  infinitely  varying  proportion  of  truth  and  error  ; 
that  thus  Christ's  Church  has  stood  on  a  rock  and  never  failed  ;  yet  has 
always  been  marred  with  much  of  intellectual  error,  and  also  of  practical  re- 
sulting from  the  intellectual ;  that  to  talk  of  Popery  as  the  great  Apostacy, 
and  to  look  for  Christ's  Church  only  amongst  the  remnant  of  the  Vaudois, 
is  as  absurd  as  to  look  to  what  is  called  the  Primitive  Church  or  the  Fa- 
thers for  pure  models  of  faith  in  the  sense  of  opinion  or  of  government;  that 
Ignatius  and  Innocent  III.  are  to  be  held  as  men  of  the  same  stamp, — zeal- 
ous and  earnest  Christians  both  of  them,  but  both  of  them  overbearing  and 
fond  of  power ;  the  one  advancing  the  power  of  Bishops,  the  other  that  of 
the  Pope,  with  equal  honesty, — it  may  be,  for  their  respective  times,  with 
equal  benefit, — but  with  as  little  claim  the  one  as  the  other  to  be  an  authority 
for  Christians,  and  with  equally  little  impartial  perception  of  universal 
truth.  But  then  for  the  Editor  ;  if  he  must  live  in  London  or  in  the  Univer- 
sities, I  cannot  think  of  the  man 


XCV.       TO    REV.    DR.    LONGLEY. 

Fox  How,  Kendal,  January  28,  1835. 

I  suppose,  as  you  have  an  Easter  vacation,  that  you  have  by  this  time 
returned  or  are  returning  to  Harrow.  Next  week  we  shall  be  also  beginning 
work  at  Rugby,  with  the  prospect  of  one-and-twenty  weeks  before  us  ; — too 
long  a  period,  I  think,  either  for  boys  or  masters.  In  the  meantime  we  have 
been  here  for  nearly  six  weeks,  enjoying  ourselves  as  much  as  possible, 
though  we  have  had  much  more  snow,  I  imagine,  than  you  have  had  in  the 


240  LIPE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

south.  But  we  have  had  a  large  and  cheerful  party  within  doors,  and  suffi- 
cient variety  of  weather  to  allow  of  a  great  deal  of  enjoyment  of  scenery  : 
besides  the  perpetual  beauty  and  interest  of  this  particular  place  and  the 
delight  of  watching  the  progress  of  all  our  improvements.  We  have  done, 
however,  at  last,  with  workmen,  and  have  now  only  to  wait  for  Nature's 
work  in  bringing  on  our  shrubs  and  trees  to  their  maturity  ;  though  many 
people  tell  me  that  every  additional  tree  will  rather  injure  the  beauty  of  this 
place  than  improve  it. 

I  have  tried  the  experiment  which  I  mentioned  to  you  about  the  Fifth 
Form,  with  some  modifications.  I  have  not  given  the  Fifth  the  power  of 
fagging,  but  by  reducing  their  number  to  about  three  or  four  and  twenty, 
we  have  made  them  much  more  respectable  both  in  conduct  and  scholarship, 
and  more  like  boys  at  the  head  of  the  school.  I  do  not  think  that  we  have 
at  present  a  large  proportion  of  clever  boys  at  Rugby,  and  there  are  many 
great  evils  which  I  have  to  contend  with,  more  than  are  generally  known. 
I  think,  also,  that  we  are  now  beginning  to  outlive  that  desire  of  novelty 
which  made  so  many  people  send  their  sons  to  Rugby,  when  I  first  went 
there.  I  knew  that  that  feeling  would  ebb,  and  therefore  got  the  school 
limited  ;  or  else  as  the  flood  would  have  risen  higher,  so  its  ebb  would  have 
been  more  marked ;  but,  as  it  was,  the  limit  was  set  too  high,  and  I  do  not 
think  that  we  shall  keep  vip  to  it,  especially  as  other  foundation  schools  are 
every  day  becoming  reformed,  and  therefore  entering  into  competition  with 
us.  But  I  say  this  without  the  least  uneasiness,  for  the  school  is  really 
mending  in  itself;  and  its  credit  at  the  Universities  increasing  rather  than 
falling  off;  and,  so  long  as  this  is  the  case,  I  shall  be  perfectly  satisfied ;  if 
we  were  really  to  go  down  in  efficiency,  either  from  my  fault,  or  from 
faults  which  I  could  not  remedy,  I  should  soon  establish  myself  at  Fox 
How. 

I  wrote  to  Hawtrey  to  congratulate  him  on  his  appointment,  and  I  took 
that  opportunity  to  ask  him  what  he  thought  of  the  expediency  of  getting 
up  good  grammars,  both  Latin  and  Greek,  which,  being  used  in  all  or  most 
of  the  great  public  schools,  would  so  become,  in  fact,  the  national  gram- 
mars. I  should  propose  to  adopt  something  of  the  plan  followed  by  our 
Translators  of  the  Bible  ;  i.  e.  that  a  certain  portion  of  each  grammar  should 
be  assigned  to  the  master  or  masters  of  each  of  the  great  schools  ;  e.  g.  the 
accidence  to  one,  syntax  to  another,  prosody  to  a  third  ;  or  probably  with 
greater  subdivisions;  that  then  the  parts  so  drawn  up  should  be  submitted 
to  the  revision  of  the  other  schools,  and  the  whole  thus  brought  into  shape. 
Hawtrey  exclaims  strongly  against  the  faults  of  the  Eton  grammars,  and  I 
am  not  satisfied  with  Matthiae,  which  seems  to  me  too  difficult,  and  almost 
impossible  to  be  learnt  by  heart.  Hawtrey  said  he  would  write  to  me  again, 
when  he  found  himself  more  settled,  and  I  have  not  heard  from  him  since. 
I  should  like  to  know  what  your  sentiments  are  about  it ;  it  would  be 
/<dAt(7T«  /.ax  h'xhv  t0  have  a  common  grammar  jointly  concocted  ;  but  if  I 
cannot  get  other  men  to  join  me,  I  think  we  must  try  our  hands  on  one  for 
our  own  use  at  Rugby ;  I  shall  not,  however,  think  of  this  till  all  hope  of 
something  better1  is  out  of  the  question. 

It  seems  to  me  that  we  have  not  enough  of  cooperation  in  our  system  of 
public  education,  including  both  the  great  schools  and  Universities.  I  do 
not  like  the  centralizing  plan  of  compulsory  uniformity  under  the  govern- 
ment ;  but  1  do  not  see  why  we  should  all  be  acting  without  the  least  refer- 
ence to  one  another.  Something  of  this  kind  is  wanted,  particularly  I  think 
with  regard  to  expulsion.  Under  actual  circumstances  it  is  often  no  penalty 
at  all  in  reality,  while  it  is  considered  ignorantly  to  be  the  excess  of  severity, 
and  the  ruin  of  a  boy's  prospects.  And  until  the  Universities  have  an 
examination  upon  admission  as  a  University,  not  a  college  regulation,  the 

1  The  necessity  of  such  a  plan  was  eventually  obviated  by  his  adoption  of  the  Rev. 
C.  Wordsworth's  Greek  Grammar. 


LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  241 

standard  of  the  college  lecture  rooms  will  be  so  low,  that  a  young  man  going 
from  the  top  of  a  public  school  will  be  nearly  losing  his  time,  and  tempted 
to  go  back  in  his  scholarship  by  attending  them.  This  is  an  old  grievance  at 
Oxford,  as  I  can  bear  witness,  when  I  myself  was  an  under-graduate  just 
come  from  Winchester. 


XCVI.       TO    REV.    F.    C.    BLACKSTONE. 

Fox  How,  January  29,  1835. 

We  have  now  been  here  nearly  six  weeks,  enjoying  this  country  to  the 
full,  in  spite  of  the  snow,  of  which  we  have  had  more  than  our  usual  portion. 
Now,  however,  it  is  all  gone,  and  the  spring  lights  and  gentle  airs  of  the  last 
few  days  have  made  the  beauty  of  the  scenery  at  its  very  highest.  We 
have  so  large  a  party  in  the  house,  that  we  are  very  independent  of  any 
other  society ;  my  wife's  two  sisters  and  one  of  my  nieces,  besides  one  of  our 
Sixth  Form  at  Rugby,  in  addition  to  our  own  children.  I  was  much 
annoyed  at  being  called  away  into  Warwickshire  to  vote  at  the  election, — a 
long  and  hurried  and  expensive  journey,  with  no  very  great  interest  in  the 
contest,  only  as  having  a  vote,  I  thought  it  right  to  go,  and  deliver  my  testi- 
mony. We  were  at  one  time  likely  to  have  a  contest  in  Westmoreland,  but 
that  blew  over.  I  wish  that  in  thinking  of  you  with  a  pupil,  I  could  think  of 
you  as  enjoying  the  employment,  whereas  I  am  afraid  you  will  feel  it  to  be 
a  burden.  It  is,  perhaps,  too  exclusively  my  business  at  Rugby  ;  at  least  I 
fancy  that  I  should  be  glad  to  have  a  little  more  time  for  other  things  ;  but 
I  have  not  yet  learnt  to  alter  my  feelings  of  intense  interest  in  the  occupa- 
tion. I  feel,  perhaps,  the  more  interest  in  it,  because  I  seem  to  find  it 
more  and  more  hopeless  to  get  men  to  think  and  inquire  freely  and  fairly, 
after  they  have  once  taken  their  side  in  life.  The  only  hope  is  with  the 
young,  if  by  any  means  they  can  be  led  to  think  for  themselves  without 
following  a  party,  and  to  love  what  is  good  and  true,  let  them  find  it  where 
they  will. 

The  Church  question  remains  more  uncertain  than  ever ;  we  have  got 
a  respite,  I  trust,  from  the  Jew  Bill  for  some  time  ;  but  in  other  matters,  I 
fear,  Reform,  according  to  my  views,  is  as  far  off  as  ever ;  I  care  not  in  the 
least  about  the  pluralities  and  equalizing  revenues ;  let  us  have  a  real 
Church  Government  and  not  a  pretended  one ;  and  this  government  vested 
in  the  church,  and  not  in  the  clergy,  and  we  may  have  hopes  yet.  But  I 
dread  above  all  things  the  notion  either  of  the  convocation  or  of  any  convo- 
cation, in  which  the  Laity  had  not  at  least  an  equal  voice.  As  for  the 
Irish  Church,  that  I  think  will  baffle  any  man's  wits  to  settle  as  it  should  be 
eettled. 


XCVII.       TO    CHEVALIER    BUNSEN. 

Rugby,  February  10,  1835. 

I  know  not  how  adequately  to  answer  your  last  delightful  and  most  kind 
letter,  so  interesting  to  me  in  all  its  parts,  so  full  of  matter  for  the  expres- 
sion of  so  many  thoughts  and  so  many  feelings,  I  think  you  can  hardly  tell, 
how  I  prize  such  true  sympathy  of  heart  and  mind  as  I  am  sure  to  find  in 
your  letters ;  because  I  hope  and  believe  that  it  is  not  so  rare  to  you  as  it  is 

to  me I  find  in  you  that  exact  combination  of  tastes,  which  I 

have  in  myself,  for  philological,  historical,  and  philosophical  pursuits,  cen- 
tering in  moral  and  spiritual  truths  ;  the  exact  Greek  noXinxt].  if  we  under- 
stand, with  St.  Paul,  where  the  aorv  of  our  nolixka  is  to  be  sought  for. 
Your  Hymn  Book  reached  me  before  the  holidays,  and  I  fed  upon  it  with 


242  L1FE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

unceasing  delight  in  Westmoreland.  It  is,  indeed,  a  treasure  ;  and  how  I 
delighted  in  recognising  the  principles  of  the  Letter  to  Dr.  Nott  in  the  first 
Appendix  to  the  volume.  As  to  the  Hymns,  I  have  not  yet  read  a  single 
one  which  I  have  not  thought  good.  I  should  like  to  know  some  of  your 
favourites ;  for  myself,  I  am  especially  fond  of  the  Hymn  24,  "  Seele,  du 
musst  munter  werden,"  &c. ;  of  697,  "  Der  Mond  ist  aufgegangen  ;"  of  824. 
"  O  liebe  Seele,  konntstdu  werden  ;"  of  622,  "  Erhebt  euch  frohe  Jubellie- 
der;"  of  839,  "  O  Ewigkeit !  O  Ewigkeit ;"  and  of  933  and  934.  I  have 
tried  to  translate  some  of  them,  hut  have  been  sadly  disappointed  with  my 
own  attempts.  But  I  must  give  you  one  or  two  stanzas  of  the  Morning  Hymn, 
as  a  token  of  my  love  to  it,  and  to  show  you  also,  for  your  satisfaction,  how 
much  our  language  is  inferior  to  yours  in  flexibility  and  power,  by  having 
lost  so  much  of  its  native  character,  and  become  such  a  jumble  of  French 

and  Latin  exotics  with  the  original  Saxon I  shall  send  you, 

almost  immediately,  the  third  volume  of  Thucydides,  and  the  third  volume 
of  Sermons.  The  Appendix  to  the  latter  is  directed  against  an  error,  which 
is  deeply  mischievous  in  our  Church,  by  presenting  so  great  an  obstacle  to 
Christian  union,  as  well  as  to  Christian  Church  Reform.  Still,  as  in  Cath- 
olic countries,  "  the  Church,"  with  us,  means,  in  many  persons'  mouths,  and 
constantly  in  Parliament,  only  "  the  clergy ;"  and  this  feeling  operates,  of 
course,  both  to  produce  superstition  and  profaneness,  in  both  respects 
exactly  opposed  to  Christianity.  Church  Reform,  in  any  high  sense  of  the 
word,  we  shall  not  have  ;  the  High  Church  party  idolize  things  as  they  are ; 
the  Evangelicals  idolize  the  early  Reformers ;  their  notion  at  the  best  would 
be  to  carry  into  full  effect  the  intentions  of  Cranmer  and  Ridley ;  neither 
party  are  prepared  to  acknowledge  that  there  is  much  more  to  be  done  than 
this;  and  that  Popery  and  narrow  dogmatical  intolerance  tainted  the  Church 
as  early  as  the  days  of  Ignatius  ;  while  on  the  other  hand,  Christ's  true 
Church  lived  through  the  worst  of  times,  and  is  not  to  be  confined  to  the 
small  congregations  of  the  Vaudois.  The  state  of  parties  in  England,  and 
that  ignorance  of  and  indifference  to  general  principles,  which  is  so  charac- 
teristic of  Englishmen,  is  enough  to  break  one's  heart.  I  do  not  think  that 
you  do  justice  to  the  late  government ;  you  must  compare  them  not  with 
the  government  of  a  perfect  Commonwealth,  but  with  that  worse  than  "  Fsex 
Romuli,"  the  Tory  system  that  preceded  them,  and  which  is  now  threaten- 
ing us  again  under  a  new  aspect It  strikes  me  that  a  noble  work 

might  be  written  on  the  Philosophy  of  Parties  and  Revolutions,  showing 
what  are  the  essential  points  of  division  in  all  civil  contests,  and  what  are 
but  accidents.  For  the  want  of  this,  history  as  a  collection  of  facts  is  of  no 
use  at  all  to  many  persons  ;  they  mistake  essential  resemblances,  and  dwell 
upon  accidental  differences,  especially  when  those  accidental  differences  are 
in  themselves  matters  of  great  importance,  such  as  differences  in  religion, 
or,  more  or  less,  of  civil  liberty  and  equality.  Whereas  it  seems  to  me  that 
the  real  parties  in  human  nature  are  the  Conservatives  and  the  Advancers  ; 
those  who  look  to  the  past  or  present,  and  those  who  look  to  the  future, 
whether  knowingly  and  deliberately,  or  by  an  instinct  of  their  nature,  indo- 
lent in  one  case  and  restless  in  the  other,  which  they  themselves  do  not 
analyze.  Thus  Conservatism  may  sometimes-be  ultra  democracy,  (see 
Cleon's  speech  in  Thucydides,  III.,)  sometimes  aristocracy,  as  in  the  civil 
wars  of  Rome,  or  in  the  English  constitution  now;  and  the  Advance  may 
be  sometimes  despotism,  sometimes  aristocracy,  but  always  keeping  its 
essential  character  of  advance,  of  taking  off  bonds,  removing  prejudices, 
altering  what  is  existing.  The  Advance  in  its  perfect  form  is  Christianity, 
and  in  a  corrupted  world  must  always  be  the  true  principle,  although  it  has 
in  many  instances  been  so  clogged  with  evil  of  various  kinds,  that  the  con- 
servative principle,  although  essentially  false,  since  man  fell  into  sin,  has  yet 
commended  itself  to  good  men  while  they  looked  on  the  history  of  mankind 
only  partially,  and  did  not  consider  it  as  a  whole.1 

'  "  Cobbett  is  an  anti-advance  man  to  the  back  bone,  he  is  sometimes  Jacobin,  some- 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


243 


.  .  .  How  you  astonish  and  shame  me  by  what  you  are  your- 
self continually  effecting  and  proposing  to  effect  amidst  all  your  official  and 
domestic  engagements.  I  do  not  know  how  you  can  contrive  it,  or  how  your 
strength  and  spirits  can  support  it.  O  how  heartily  do  I  sympathize  in  your 
feeling  as  to  the  union  of  philological,  historical,  and  philosophical  research, 
all  to  minister  to  divine  truth ;  and  how  gladly  would  I  devote  my  time  and 
powers  to  such  pursuits,  did  I  not  feel  as  much  another  thing  in  your  letter, 
that  we  should  abide  in  that  calling  which  God  has  set  before  us.  And  it  is 
-delightful,  if  at  any  time  I  may  hope  to  send  out  into  the  world  any  young 
man  willing  and  trained  to  do  Christ's  work,  rich  in  the  combined  and  indi- 
visible love  of  truth  and  of  goodness. 

It  is  one  of  my  most  delightful  prospects  to  bring  my  two 

elder  boys,  and  I  hope  their  dear  mother  also,  to  see  you  and  Mrs.  Bunsen, 
whether  it  be  at  Rome  or  at  Berlin.  I  only  wait  for  the  boys  being  old 
enough  to  derive  some  lasting  benefit  from  what  they  would  see  and  hear 
on  the  Continent.  They  are  too  young  now,  for  the  oldest  is  but  just  twelve 
years  old, — the  second  just  eleven.  Your  little  namesake  is  the  smallest 
creature  of  her  age  that  I  ever  saw, — a  mere  doll  walking  about  the  room  ; 
— but  full  of  life  and  intelligence — and  the  merriest  of  the  merry. 

I  have  been  trying  to  begin  Hebrew,  but  am  discouraged  by  my  notions 
of  the  uncertainty  of  the  best  knowledge  hitherto  gained  about  it.  Do  you 
think  it  possible  to  understand  Hebrew  well,  that  is,  as  we  understand 
Greek,  where  the  language  is  more  precise  and  more  clear  than  even  our 
own  could  be?  Conceive  the  luminous  clearness  of  Demosthenes,  owing  to 
his  perfect  use  of  an  almost  perfect  language,  and  our  complete  understand- 
ing of  it ;  but  the  interpretation  of  the  Hebrew  Prophets'  seems  to  me, 
judging  from  the  different  Commentaries,  to  be  almost  guess-work  ;  and  I 
doubt  whether  it  ever  can  be  otherwise.  Then  the  criticism  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, the  dates  of  the  several  books,  their  origin,  &c,  all  seem  to  me  un- 
decided, and  what  Wolf  and  Niebuhr  have  done  for  Greece  and  Rome 
seems  sadly  wanted  for  Judea. 


XCVIII.       *  TO    C.    J.    VAUGHAN,    ESd. 

Rugby,  February  25,  1835. 

You  must  not  think  that  I  had  forgotten  you,  though  your  kind  letter  has 
remained  so  long  unanswered.  I  was  always  conscious  of  my  debt  to  you , 
and  resolved  to  pay  it ;  but  though  I  can  write  letters  of  business  at  any 
time,  yet  it  is  not  so  with  letters  to  friends,  which  I  neither  like  to  leave  un- 
finished in  the  middle,  nor,  10  say  the  truth,  do  I, always  feel  equal  to  writing 

times  Conservative,  but  never  liberal  ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  most  of  the  party 
writers  on  both  sides,  of  which  there  is  a  good  proof  in  their  joint  abuse  of  the  French 
government,  which  is,  I  thiuk,  the  most  truly  liberal  and  '  advancing'  that  exists  in  Europe, 
next  perhaps  to  the  Prussian,  which  is  one  of  the  most  advancing  ever  known." — Extract 
from  a  Leiter  to  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge  in  the  same  year. 

The  doctrine  alluded  to  in  these  letters  was  one  to  which  he  often  recurred,  and 
which  he  believed  to  be  peculiarly  applicable  to  modern  Europe.  "  A  volume,"  he  said, 
"  might  be  written  on  those  words  of  Harrington,  '  that  we  are  living  in  the  dregs  of  the 
Gothic  empire.'  It  is  that  the  beginnings  of  things  are  bad — and  when  they  have  not 
been  altered,  you  may  safely  say  that  they  want  altering.  But  then  comes  the  question 
whether  our  fate  is  not  fixed,  and  whether  you  could  not  as  well  make  the  muscles  and 
sinews  of  a  full  grown  man  perform  the  feats  of  an  Indian  juggler  ;  great  changes  require 
great  docility,  and  you  can  only  expect  that  from  perfect  knowledge  or  perfect  ignorance." 

1  This  opinion  was  greatly  modified  by  his  later  study  of  the  Prophets.  The  general 
coincidence  of  two  men  so  different  as  Lowth  and  Gesenius  in  their  interpretation  of 
Isaiah,  he  used,  to  instance  as  a  satisfactory  proof  that  the  meaning  of  the.  Hebrew  Scrip- 
tures could  be  really  ascertained. 


246  L1FE   0F    DR'  ARNOLD. 

it.  But  history,  I  think,  can  furnish  little  to  the  purpose,  because  all  history 
properly  so  called  belongs  to  an  age  of  at  least  partial  civilization ;  and  the 
poetical  or  mythical  traditions,  which  refer  to  the  origin  of  this  civilization, 
cannot  be  made  use  of  to  prove  any  thing  till  their  character  has  undergone 
a  more  complete  analysis.  I  believe  with  you  that  savages  could  never 
civilize  themselves,  but  barbarians  I  think  might ;  and  there  are  some  races, 
e.  g.  the  Keltic,  the  Teutonic,  and  the  Hellenic,  that  we  cannot  trace  back  to 
a  savage  state,  nor  does  it  appear  that  they  ever  were  savages.  With  re- 
gard to  such  races  as  have  been  found  in  a  savage  state,  if  it  be  admitted 
that  all  mankind  are  originally  one  race,  then  I  should  say  that  they  must 
have  degenerated  ;  but,  if  the  physiological  question  be  not  settled  yet,  and 
there  is  any  reason  to  suppose  that  the  New  Hollander  and  the  Greek  never 
had  one  common  ancestor,  then  you  would  have  the  races  of  mankind  divided 
into  those  improveable  by  themselves,  and  those  improveable  only  by  others ; 
the  first  created  originally  with  such  means  in  their  possession,  that  out  of 
these  they  could  work  indefinitely  their  own  improvement,  the  nov  otm  being 
in  a  manner  given  to  them  ;  the  second  without  the  nov  ata,  and  intended  to 
receive  it  in  time,  through  the  instrumentality  of  their  fellow-creatures. 
And  this  would  be  sufficiently  analogous  to  the  course  of  Providence  in  other 
known  cases,  e.  g.  the  communicating  all  religious  knowledge  to  mankind 
through  the  Jewish  people,  and  all  intellectual  civilization  through  the 
Greeks  ;  no  people  having  ever  yet  possessed  that  activity  of  mind,  and  that 
power  of  reflection  and  questioning  of  things,  which  are  the  marks  of  in- 
tellectual advancement,  without  having  derived  them  mediately  or  imme- 
diately from  Greece.  I  had  occasion  in  the  winter  to  observe  this  in  a  Jew, 
of  whom  I  took  a  few  lessons  in  Hebrew,  and  who  was  learned  in  the  writings 
of  the  Rabbis,  but  totally  ignorant  of  all  the  literature  of  the  West,  ancient 
and  modern.  He  was  consequently  just  like  a  child, — his  mind  being  en- 
tirely without  the  habit  of  criticism  or  analysis,  whether  as  applied  to  words 
or  to  things ;  wholly  ignorant,  for  instance,  of  the  analysis  of  language, 
whether  grammatical  or  logical ;  or  of  the  analysis  of  a  narrative  of  facts, 
according  to  any  rules  of  probability  external  or  internal.  I  never  so  felt  the 
debt  which  the  human  race  owes  to  Pythagoras,  or  whoever  it  was  that  was 
the  first  founder  of  Greek  philosophy. 

The  interest  of  present  questions,  involving  as  they  do  great 

and  eternal  principles,  hinders  me  from  fixing  contentedly  upon  a  work  of 
past  history ;  while  the  hopelessness  of  persuading  men,  and  the  inevitable 
odium  which  attends  any  thing  written  on  the  topics  of  the  day,  hinder  me 
on  the  other  hand  from  writing  much  about  the  present.  How  great  this 
odium  is,  I  really  could  have  hardly  conceived,  even  with  all  my  former  ex- 
perience.    [The  rest  of  the  letter  is  lost.] 


CI.       TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL,      (a.) 

Rugby,  March  30,  1835. 

Just  as  I  have  begun  to  write,  the  clock  has  struck  five,  which  you  know 
announces  the  end  of  Fourth  lesson,  so  that  I- fear  I  shall  not  make  much 
progress  now  ;  I  shall  let  the  Sixth  Form,  however,  have  the  pleasure  of 
contemplating  a  very  beautiful  passage  out  of  Coleridge  for  a  few  minutes 
longer,  while  I  write  on  a  few  lines  to  you.     It  gave  me  great  pleasure  to 

find  that  you  enjoy 's  society  so  much,  and  I  hope  that  it  makes  Oxford 

seem  at  any  rate  more  endurable  to  you.      I  was  very  much  interested  by 

your  story  of 's  comment  upon  a  little  burst  of  yours  about  Switzerland. 

I  suppose  that  Pococuranteism  (excuse  the  word)  is  much  the  order  of  the 

Warwickshire  election.     For  the  distinction  between  "  Liberal  and  Popular  principles," 
see  his  article  in  the  Quarterly  Journal  of  Education,  vol.  ix.  p.  281. 


LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


247 


day  amongst  young  men.  I  observe  symploms  of  it  here,  and  am  always 
dreading  its  ascendency,  though  we  have  some  who  struggle  nobly  against 
it.  1  believe  that  "  Nil  admirari,"  in  this  sense  is  the  Devil's  favourite  text ; 
and  he  could  not  choose  a  better  to  introduce  his  pupils  into  the  more  eso- 
teric parts  of  his  doctrine.  And  therefore  I  have  always  looked  upon  a 
man  infected  with  this  disorder  of  anti-romance,  as  on  one,  who  has  lost  the 
finest  part  of  his  nature,  and  his  best  protection  against  every  thing  low  and 
foolish.  Such  a  man  may  well  call  me  mad,  but  his  party  are  not  yet  strong 
enough  to  get  me  fairly  shut  up, — and  till  they  are,  I  shall  take  the  liberty 
of  insisting  that  their  tail  is  the  longest,  and,  the  more  boldly  I  assume  this, 
the  more  readily  will  the  world  believe  me.  I  have  lived  now  for  many 
years, — indeed,  since  I  was  a  very  young  man, — in  a  very  entire  indiffer- 
ence as  to  the  opinion  of  people,  unless  I  have  reason  to  think  them  good 
and  wise;  and  I  wish  that  some  of  my  friends  would  share  this  indifference, 
at  least  as  far  as  I  am  concerned.  The  only  thing  which  gives  me  the 
slightest  concern  in  the  attacks  which  have  been  lately  made  on  me,  is  the 

idea  of  their  in  any  degree  disturbing  my  friends.     I  am  afraid  that is 

not  as  indifferent  as  I  could  wish  either  to  the  attacks  in  newspapers,  or  to 
the  gossip  of  Oxford  about  Rugby,  of  which  last  I  have  now  had  some 
years'  experience,  and  I  should  pay  it  a  very  undeserved  compliment,  if  I 
were  to  set  any  higher  value  on  it  than  I  do  on  my  friend  Theodore  Hook 
and  his  correspondents  in  John  Bull.  It  is  a  mere  idleness  to  attend  to  this 
sort  of  talking,  and  as  to  trying  to  act  so  as  to  avoid  its  attacks. — a  man 
would  have  enough  to  do,  and  would  lead  a  strange  life,  if  he  were  to  be 
shaping  his  conduct  to  propitiate  gossip.  I  hold  it  also  equally  vain  to  at- 
tempt to  explain  or  to  contradict  any  reports  that  may  be  in  circulation ;  in 
order  to  do  so,  it  would  be  necessary  to  write  a  weekly  despatch  at  the  least; 
and  even  then  it  would  do  little  good,  while  it  would  greatly  encourage  the 
utterers  of  scandal,  as  it  would  show  that  their  attacks  were  thought  worth 

noticing You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  the  English  Essays  are 

again  very  good,  and  so  I  think  are  some  of  the  Latin  Essays ;  the  verse 
we  have  not  yet  received.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  constantly  sufficient 
occasion  to  remember  our  humanity,  without  any  slave  to  prompt  us. 


CII.       TO    SIR    THOMAS    SABINE    PASLEY,    BART. 
(In  answer  to  a  question  about  Public  and  Private  Schools.) 

Rugby,  April  15,  1835. 

.  •  .  .  .  .  The  difficulties  of  education  stare  me  in  the  face,  when- 
ever I  look  at  my  own  four  boys.  I  think  by  and  by  that  I  shall  put  them 
into  the  school  here,  but  I  shall  do  it  with  trembling.  Experience  seems  to 
point  out  no  one  plan  of  education  as  decidedly  the  best ;  it  only  says,  I 
think,  that  public  education  is  the  best  where  it  answers.  But  then  the 
question  is,  will  it  answer  with  one's  own  boy  ?  and  if  it  fails,  is  not  the 
failure  complete  1  It  becomes  a  question  of  particulars  :  a  very  good  pri- 
vate tutor  would  tempt  me  to  try  private  education,  or  a  very  good  public 
school,  with  connexions  amongst  the  boys  at  it,  might  induce  me  to  venture 
upon  public.  Still  there  is  much  chance  in  the  matter  ;  for  a  school  may 
change  its  character  greatly,  even  with  the  same  master,  by  the  prevalence  of 
a  good  or  bad  set  of  boys  ;  and  this  no  caution  can  guard  against.  But  I  should 
certainly  advise  any  thing  rather  than  a  private  school  of  above  thirty  boys. 
Large  private  schools,  I  think,  are  the  worst  possible  system :  the  choice 
lies  between  public  schools,  and  an  education,  whose  character  may  be 
strictly  private  and  domestic.  This,  I  fear,  is  but  an  unsatisfactory  opinion  ; 
but  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  give  you  all  the  advice  that  I  can  upon  any 
particular  case  that  you  may  have  to  propose,  when  I  have  the  pleasure  of 


248 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


seeing  you  in  Westmoreland.  We  are  just  going  to  embark  on  our  time  of 
gaiety,  or  rather,  I  may  say,  of  bustle ;  for  we  shall  not  dine  alone  again  for 
the  next  fortnight.  I  am  going  southwards  instead  of  northwards,  to  my  old 
home  at  Laleham,  which  I  can  reach  in  twelve  hours,  instead  of  twenty-four. 
You  may  imagine  that  we  often  think  of  Fox  How,  and  I  sighed  to  see  the 
wood  anemones  on  the  rock,  when  on  Tuesday  I  went  with  all  the  chil- 
dren, except  Fan,  to  the  only  place  within  four  miles  of  us,  where  there  is  a 
little  copse  and  wood  flowers. 


CHI.      t    T0    H-    STRICKLAND,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  May  18,  1835. 

1  congratulate  you  on  your  prospects  of  exploring  Asia  Minor,  and  I 
should  be  most  happy  to  give  you  any  assistance  in  my  power  towards  fur- 
thering your  objects.  You  know,  I  dare  say,  a  map  of  Asia  Minor,  pub- 
lished a  few  years  since,  by  Colonel  Leake,  and  showing  all  that  was  then 
known  of  that  country.  The  Geographical  Society  will  give  you  all  infor- 
mation, which  you  may  need  as  to  more  recent  journeys  ;  but  I  imagine  lit- 
tle has  been  done  of  any  account.  What  -is  to  be  done,  may  be  divided  na- 
turally into  two  heads,  physical  research,  and  moral,  in  the  widest  sense  of 
the  term.  As  to  the  former,  you  can  need  no  suggestions  from  me.  I  am 
curious  to  know  about  the  geology — whether  the  salt  lakes  of  the  interior 
belong  to  the  red  marl  formation,  and  whether  there  are  any  traces  of  coal. 
Withregard  to  the  botany,  every  observation,  I  suppose,  will  be  valuable, — 
what  trees  and  shrubs  appear  to  be  the  weeds  of  the  soil ;  and  whether 
there  is  any  appearance  or  tradition  that  these  have  changed  within  histor- 
ical memory ; — whether  there  are  any  traces  of  destroyed  forests,  and 
whether  the  sands  have  encroached  or  are  encroaching  on  the  available 
soil,  either  in  the  valleys  or  elsewhere.  Again,  all  meteorological  observa- 
tions will  be  precious  ; — variations  of  temperature  at  different  levels  or  dis- 
tances from  the  sea ;  suddenness  of  changes  of  temperature ;  prevailing 
winds,  quantity  of  rain  that  falls,  &c.  All  tacts  that  may  throw  any  light 
upon  the  phenomena  of  malaria  are  highly  important ;  and  I  think  it  is 
worth  while  to  bear  in  mind  the  possible,  if  not  probable  connexion  between 
epidemic  disorders  and  the  outbreak  of  volcanic  agency  and  electrical  phe- 
nomena. The  return  of  crops— how  many  fold  the  seed  yields  in  average 
seasons,  is  also,  I  think,  a  fact  always  worth  getting  at. 

Now  for  matters  relating  to  man.  Asia  Minor  has  little  historical  inter- 
est, except  as  to  its  coasts :  you  will  not  find  any  places  of  note,  but  you  may 
find  inscriptions,  and  of  course  coins,  which  may  be  valuable.  The  point 
for  inquiry,  as  far  as  it  may  be  possible,  seems  to  me  to  be  the  languages 
and  dialects  of  the  country.  The  existence  of  the  Basque  language,  as 
well  as  of  the  Breton  and  Welsh,  shows  how  aboriginal  dialects  will  linger 
on  through  successive  conquests  in  remote  districts.  Turkish  can  hardly 
be  the  universal  language,  or,  if  it  is,  it  must  be  more  or  less  corrupted  with 
a  foreign  intermixture ;  and  then,  any  of  these  corrupting  words  may  be 
very  curious  as  relics  of  the  original  languagesj  and  Phrygian,  we  know, 
had,  even  amongst  the  Greeks,  a  character  of  high  antiquity.  If  you  find 
any  unexplored  libraries,  look  out  for  palimpsests ;  in  these  lies  our  only 
chance  of  recovering  any  thing  of  great  value ;  and  though  you  will  not 
have  time  to  spell  them  out,  yet  a  cursory  glance  may  give  you  some  hints 
as  to  what  they  are,  and  may  enable  you  to  direct  the  inquiries  of  others. 
All  old  or  actual  lines  of  road  are  worth  attending  to,  and  of  course,  all 
statistical  information.  If  possible,  I  would  take  a  Strabo  with  me,  and  an 
Herodotus ;  also,  if  you  go  to  Trebizond,  the  Anabasis.  I  should  like  to 
explore  the  valley  of  the  Halys,  which,  I  suppose,  must  be  one  of  the  finest 
parts  of  the  whole  country ;  but  the  greatest  part  of  it,  I  imagine,  will  be 
eadly  tiresome. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


CIV.       TO    MR.    JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 


249 


Rugby,  May  20,  1835. 

I  have  just  been  setting  my  boys  a  passage  out  of  your  edition  of  Black- 
stone,  to  translate  into  Latin  prose,  and  while  they  are  doing  it,  I  will  begin 
a  letter  to  you.  I  have  had  unmixed  satisfaction  in  all  I  have  heard  said  of 
you  since  your  elevation.  So  entirely  do  I  rejoice  in  it,  both  publicly  and 
privately,  that  I  could  almost  forgive  Sir  R.  Peel's  ministry  their  five  months 
of  office  for  the  sake  of  that  one  good  deed.     I  do  hope  I  shall  see  you  ere 

long,  for  I  yearn  sadly  after  my  old  friends I  live  alone,  so  far  as 

men  friends  are  concerned,  and  am  obliged  more  and  more  to  act  and  think 
by  myself  and  for  myself.  It  was  therefore  very  delightful  to  me  to  get  your 
little  bit  of  counsel  touching  the  delay  of  my  book,  and  I  am  gladly  comply- 
ing with  it.  But  I  have  read  more  about  it,  and  for  a  longer  period,  than 
perhaps  you  are  aware  of ;  and  in  history,  after  having  reached  a  certain 
point  of  knowledge,  the  after  progress  increases  in  a  very  rapid  ratio,  be- 
cause the  particular  facts  group  under  their  general  principle,  and  gain  a 
clearness  and  instructiveness  from  the  comparison  with  other  analogous 
facts,  which  in  their  solitary  state  they  could  not  have. 

Your  uncle  said,  many  years  ago,  that  "  it  could  not  be  wondered  at  if 
good  men  were  slow  to  join  Mr.  Pitt's  party,  seeing  that  it  dealt  in  such 
atrocious  personal  calumnies."  I  think  I  have  had  within  the  last  three  or 
four  months  ample  reason  to  repeat  his  observation.  Had  you  not  been  on 
the  Bench,  I  should  have  consulted  you  as  to  the  expediency  of  noticing 
some  of  them  legally ;  and  now,  as  far  as  you  can  with  propriety,  I  should 
much  like  to  hear  what  you  would  say.  The  attacks  go  on  weekly,  charging 
me  with  corrupting  the  boys'  religious  principles,  and  intending,  if  they  can, 
to  injure  me  in  my  trade.  1  am  assured  that  many  copies  of  the  paper  in 
which  most  of  these  libels  appear,  are  sent  gratuitously  to  persons  in  Ireland, 
who  have  been  supposed  likely  to  send  their  sons  here  ;  and  the  same  tone 
of  abuse  was  followed  for  some  weeks  in  the  John  Bull.  I  think  that  this 
spirit  of  libel  is  peculiar  to  the  Tories,  from  L'Estrange  and  Swift  down- 
wards :  just  ask  yourself,  if  you  have  known  any  Tory  not  more  eno-aged  in 
public  life  than  I  am.  and  having  given  as  little  ground  for  attack  by  per- 
sonalities on  my  part,  who  was  abused  by  the  Liberal  papers  as  I  have  been 
by  the  Tories.  I  often  think  of  the  rancorous  abuse  which  the  same  party 
heaped  upon  Burnett,  and  how  that  Exposition  of  the  Articles,  which 
Bishops  and  Divinity  Professors,  and  Tutors  now  recommend,  was  censured 
by  the  Lower  House  of  Convocation  as  latitudinarian.     df/opai  xhv  o't'wvov. 

I  hope  you  saw  Wordsworth  when  he  was  in  London,  and 

that  you  enjoy  his  new  volume.  I  have  been  reading  a  good  deal  of  Pindar 
and  of  Aristophanes  lately, — Pindar  after  twenty  years'  interval,  and  how 
much  more  interesting  he  is  to  the  man  than  to  the  boy.  As  for  Homer,  it 
is  my  weekly  feast  to  get  better  and  better  acquainted  with  him.  In  Eng- 
lish I  read  scarcely  any  thing,  and  I  know  not  when  I  shall  be  able  to  do  it. 
We  go  on  here  very  comfortably,  and  the  school  is  in  a  very  satisfactory 
state.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  some  of  the  best  of  my  Rugby  pupils 
here  at  Easter,  and  one  of  the  best  of  my  Laleham  ones  was  here  a  little 
before.  It  is  the  great  happiness  of  my  profession  to  have  these  relations  so 
dear  and  so  enduring.  I  had  intended  to  go  to  Oxford  to-day,  to  have  voted  in 
favourSof  the  Declaration  instead  of  the  Subscription  to  the  Article?,  but  I  could 
not  well  manage  it,  and  it  was  of  little  consequence,  as  we  were  sure  to  be 
beaten.  It  makes  me  half  daft  to  think  of  Oxford  and  the  London  Univer- 
sity, as  bad  as  one  another  in  their  opposite  ways,  and  perpetuating  their 
badness  by  remaining  distinct,  instead  of  mixing. 

17 


250  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 


CV.      TO    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 


Rugby,  May  27,  1835. 


I  sincerely  congratulate  you  on  being  honoured  with  the  abuse  of" 

my  friend  the  Northampton  Herald,  in  company  with  Whately,  Hampden, 
and  myself;  and  perhaps  I  feel  some  malicious  satisfaction  that  you  should 
be  thus  in  a  manner  forced  into  the  boat  with  us,  while  you  perhaps  are 
thinking  us  not  very  desirable  companions.  It  was  found,  I  believe,  at  the 
Council  of  Trent,  that  the  younger  clergy  were  far  more  averse  to  reform 
than  the  older ;  just  as  the  Juniores  Patrum  at  Rome,  were  the  hottest  sup- 
porters of  the  abuses  of  the  aristocracy ;  and  so  the  Convocation  has  shown 
itself  far  more  violent  and  obstinate  against  improvement  than  the  Heads  of 
Houses.  It  is  a  great  evil — a  national  evil,  I  think,  of  very  great  magni- 
tude ;  for  the  Charter  must  be,  and  ought  to  be,  granted  to  the  London  Uni- 
versity, if  you  will  persist  in  keeping  out  Dissenters  ;  and  then  there  will  be 
two  party  places,  instead  of  one,  to  perpetuate  narrow  views,  and  disunion 
to  our  children's  children.  For  it  is  vain  to  deny,  that  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land clergy  have  politically  been  a  party  in  the  country,  from  Elizabeth's 
time  downwards,  and  a  party  opposed  to  the  cause,  which  in  the  main  has 
been  the  cause  of  improvement.  There  have  been  at  all  times  noble  indi- 
vidual exceptions,  and,  for  very  considerable  periods,  in  the  reign  of  George 
the  Second,  and  in  the  early  part  of  George  the  Third's  reign,  for  instance, 
the  spirit  of  the  body  has  been  temperate  and  conciliatory ;  but  in  Charles 
the  Fii-st  and  Second's  reigns,  and  in  the  period  following  the  revolution, 
they  deserved  so  ill  of  their  country,  that  the  Dissenters  have  at  no  time 
deserved  worse ;  and,  therefore,  it  will  not  do  for  the  Church  party  to  iden- 
tify themselves  with  the  nation,  which  they  are  not,  nor  with  the  constitution, 
which  they  did  their  best  to  hinder  from  ever  coming  into  existence.  I  grant 
that  the  Dissenters  are,  politically  speaking,  nearly  as  bad,  and  as  narrow- 
minded,  but  then  they  have  more  excuse,  in  belonging  generally  to  a  lower 
class  in  society,  and  not  having  been  taught  Aristotle  and  Thucydides. 
June  1st.  I  was  interrupted,  for  which  you  will  not  be  sorry,  and  I  will  not 
return  to  the  subject.  I  was  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  letter  and  pam 
phlet ;  but  though  I  approve  of  the  proposed  change,  yet  of  course  it  does 
not  touch  the  great  question. 


CVI.      TO    A    PERSON    DISTRESSED    BY    SKEPTICAL    DOUBTS. 

Rugby,  June  21,  1835. 

I  have  been  very  far  from  forgetting  you,  or  my  promise  to  write  down 
something  on  the  subject  of  our  conversation,  though  I  have  some  fears  of 
doing  more-  harm  than  good,  by  not  meeting  your  case  satisfactorily.  How- 
ever, I  shall  venture,  hoping  that  God  may  bless  the  attempt  to  your  com- 
fort and  benefit. 

The  more  I  think  of  the  matter  the  more  I  am  satisfied  that  all  specula- 
tions of  the  kind  in  question  are  to  be  repressed  by  the  will,  and  if  they  haunt 
us,  notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  our  will,  that  then  they  are  to  be  prayed 
against,  and  silently  endured  as  a  trial.  I  mean  speculations  turning  upon 
things  wholly  beyond  our  reach,  and  where  the  utmost  conceivable  result 
cannot  be  truth,  but  additional  perplexity.  Such  must  be  the  question  as  to 
the  orio-in  and  continued  existence  of  moral  evil;  which  is  a  question  utterly 
out  of  our  reach,  as  we  know  and  can  know  nothing  of  the  system  of  the 
universe,  and  which  can  never  bring  us  to  truth,  because  if  we  adopt  one 
hypothesis  as  certain,  and  come  to  a  conclusion  upon  one  theory,  we  shall 
be  met  by  difficulties  quite  as  insuperable  on  the  other  side,  which  would 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


251 


oblige  us  in  fairness  to  go  over  the  process  again,  and  to  reject  our  new  con- 
clusion, as  we  had  done  our  old  one  ;  because  in  our  total  ignorance  of  the 
matter,  there  will  always  be  difficulties  in  the  way  of  any  hypothesis  which 
we  cannot  answer,  and  which  will  effectually  preclude  our  ever  arriving  at 
a  state  of  intellectual  satisfaction,  such  as  consists  in  having  a  clear  view  of 
a  whole  question  from  first  to  last,  and  seeing  that  the  premises  are  true,  the 
conclusion  fairly  drawn,  and  that  all  objections  to  either  may  be  satisfac- 
torily answered.  This  state,  which  alone  I  suppose  deserves  to  be  called 
knowledge,  is  one  which,  if  we  can  ever  attain  it,  is  attainable  only  in  mat- 
ters merely  human,  and  only  within  the  range  of  our  understanding  and  ex- 
perience. It  is  manifest  that  the  sole  difficulty  in  the  subject  of  your  per- 
plexity is  merely  the  origin  of  moral  evil,  and  it  is  manifest  also  that  this 
difficulty  equally  affects  things  actually  existing  around  us.  Yet  if  the  sight 
of  wickedness  in  ourselves  or  others  were  to  lead  us  to  perplex  ourselves  as 
to  its  origin,  instead  of  struggling  against  it,  and  attempting  to  put  an  end 
to  it,  we  know  that  we  should  be  wrong,  and  that  evil  would  thrive  and 
multiply  on'such  a  system  of  conduct. 

This  would  have  been  the  language  of  a  heathen  Stoic  or  Academician, 
when  an  Epicurean  beset  him  with  the  difficulty  of  accounting  for  evil  with- 
out impugning  the  power  or  the  goodness  of  the  gods.  And  I  think  that 
this  language  was  sound  and  practically  convincing,  quite  enough  so  to 
show  that- the  Epicurean  objection  sets  one  upon  an  error,  because  it  leads 
to  practical  absurdity  and  wickedness.  But  I  think  that  with  us  the 
authority  of  Christ  puts  things  on  a  different  footing.  I  know  nothing  about 
the  origin  of  evil,  but  I  believe  that  Christ  did  know;  and  as  our  common 
sense  tells  us,  that  we  can  strive  against  evil  and  sympathize  in  punish- 
ment here,  although  we  cannot  tell  how  there  comes  to  be  evil,  so  Christ 
tells  us  that  we  may  continue  these  same  feelings  to  the  state  beyond  this 
life,  although  the  origin  of  evil  is  still  a  secret  to  us.  And  I  know  Christ  to 
have  been  so  wise  and  so  loving  to  men,  that  I  ami  sure  I  may  trust  His 
word,  and  that  what  was  entirely  agreeable  to  His  sense  of  justice  and 
goodness,  cannot,  unless  through  my  own  defect,  be  otherwise  than  agreea- 
ble to  mine. 

Further,  when  I  find  him  repelling  all  questions  of  curiosity,  and  reprov- 
ing in  particular  such  as  had  a  tendency  to  lead  men  away  from  their  great 
business, — the  doing  good  to  themselves  and  others, — I  am  sure  that  if  I 
stood  before  Him,  and  said  to  Him,  "  Lord,  what  can  I  do  ?  for  I  cannot 
understand  how  God  can  allow  any  to  be  wicked,  or  why  He  should  not 
destroy  them,  rather  than  let  them  exist  to  suffer ;"  that  His  mildest  answer 
would  be,  "  What  is  that  to  thee — follow  thou  me."  But  if  He,  who  can  read 
the  heart,  knew  that  there  was  in  the  doubt  so  expressed  any  thing  of  an  evil 
heart  of  unbelief— of  unbelief  that  had  grown  out  of  carelessness  and  from 
my  not  having  walked  watchfully  after  Him,  loving  Him,  and  doing  His 
will, — then  I  should  expect  that  He  would  tell  me,  that  this  thought  had 
come  to  me,  because  I  neither  knew  Him  nor  His  Father,  but  had  neglected 
and  been  indifferent  to  both ;  and  then  I  should  be  sure  that  He  would  give 
me  no  explanation  or  light  at  all,  but  would  rather  make  the  darkness 
thicker  upon  me,  till  I  came  before  Him  not  with  a  speculative  doubt,  but 
with  an  earnest  prayer  for  His  mercy  and  His  help,  and  with  a  desire  to 
walk  humbly  before  Him,  and  to  do  His  will,  and  promote.  His  kingdom. 
This,  I  believe,  is  the  only  way  to  deal  with  those  disturbances  of  mind 
which  cannot  lead  to  truth,  but  only  to  perplexity.  Many  persons,  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  endure  some  of  these  to  their  dying  day,  well  aware  of 
their  nature,  and  not  sanctioning  them  by  their  will,  but  unable  to  shake 
them  off,  and  enduring  them  as  a  real  thorn  in  the  flesh,  as  they  would 
endure  the  far  lighter  trials  of  sickness  or  outward  affliction.  But  they 
should  be  kept,  I  think,  to  ourselves,  and  not  talked  of  even  to  our  nearest 
friends,  when  we  once  understand  their  true  nature.  Talking  about  them 
gives  them  a  sort  of  reality  which  otherwise  they  would  not  have  ;  just  like 


252  LIFE  0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

talking  about  our  dreams.  We  should  act  and  speak,  and  try  to  feel  as  if 
they  had  no  existence,  and  then  in  most  cases  they  do  cease  to  exist  after  a 
time  ;  when  they  do  not,  they  are  harmless  to  our  spiritual  nature,  although 
I  fully  believe  that  they  are  the  most  grievous  affliction  with  which  human 
nature  is  visited. 

Of  course,  what  I  have  here  said  relates  only  to  such  questions  as  can- 
not possibly  be  so  answered  as  to  produce  even  entire  intellectual  satisfac- 
tion, much  less  moral  advantage.  I  hold  that  Atheism  and  pure  Skepticism 
are  both  systems  of  absurdity ;  which  involves  the  condemnation  of  hypothe- 
ses leading  to  either  of  them  as  conclusions.  For  Atheism  separates  truth 
from  goodness,  and  Skepticism  destroys  truth  altogether;  both  of  which  are 
monstrosities,  from  which  we  should  revolt  as  from  a  real  madness.  With 
my  earnest  hopes  and  prayers  that  you  may  be  relieved  from  what  I  know 
to  be  the  greatest  of  earthly  trials,  but  with  a  no  less  earnest  advice,  that,  if 
it  does  continue,  you  will  treat  it  as  a  trial,  and  only  cling  the  closer,  as  it 
were,  to  that  perfect  Saviour,  in  the  entire  love  and  truth  of  whose  nature  all 
doubt  seems  to  melt  away,  and  who,  if  kept  steadily  before  our  minds,  is,  I 
believe,  most  literally  our  Bread  of  Life,  giving  strength  and  peace  to  our 
weakness  and  distractions. 


CVII.      TO    ONE    OF   THE    SIXTH    FORM,    THREATENED   WITH    CONSUMPTION. 

Fox  How,  July  31,  1835. 

....  I  fear  that  you  will  have  found  your  patience  much  tried  by  the 
return  of  pain  in  your  side,  and  the  lassitude  produced  by  the  heat :  it  must 
also  be  a  great  trial  not  to  be  able  to  bear  reading.  I  can  say  but  little  of 
such  a  state  from  my  own  experience,  but  I  have  seen  much  of  it,  and  have 
known  how  easy  and  even  happy  it  has  become,  partly  by  time,  but  more 
from  a  better  support,  which  I  believe  is  never  denied  when  it  is  honestly 
sought.  And  I  have  always  supposed  that  the  first  struggle  in  such  a  case 
would  be  the  hardest ;  that  is,  the  struggle  in  youth  or  middle  age,  of  recon- 
ciling ourselves  to  the  loss  of  the  active  powers  of  life,  and  to  the  necessity 
of  serving  God  by  suffering  rather  than  by  doing.  Afterwards,  I  should  im- 
agine the  mind  would  feel  a  great  peace  in  such  a  state,  in  the  relief  afforded 
from  a  great  deal  of  temptation  and  responsibility,  and  the  course  of  duty 
lying  before  it  so  plain  and  so  simple. 


CVIII.      TO    REV.    F.    C.    BLACKSTONE. 

Fox  How,  July  28,  1835. 

' .  Next  week  we  probably  shall  return  to  Warwickshire,  and  I 

expect  the  unusual  circumstance  of  being  at  Rugby  for  a  fortnight  in  the 
holidays,  a  thing  which  in  itself  I  shall  be  far  from  regretting,  though  I  cer- 
tainly am  not  anxious  to  hasten  away  from  Westmoreland.  But  I  often  look 
at  the  backs  of  my  books  with  such  a  forlorn  glance  during  the  half-year, — 
it  being  difficult  then  to  read  consecutively. — that  I  rather  hail  the  prospect 
of  being  able  to  employ  a  few  mornings  in  some  employment  of  my  own. 
The  school  will  become  more  and  more  engrossing,  and  so  it  ought  to  be, 
for  it  is  impossible  ever  to  do  enough  in  it.  Yet  I  think  it  essential  that  I 
should  not  give  up  my  own  reading,  as  I  always  find  any  addition  of  know- 
ledge always  to  turn  to  account  for  the  school  in  some  way  or  other.  I  fear, 
however,  that  I  am  growing  less  active ;  and  I  find  myself  often  more  in- 
clined to  read  to  the  children,  or  to  amuse  myself  with  some  light  book  after 
my  day's  work  at  Rugby,  than  to  enter  on  any  regular  employment. 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


253 


My  volume  of  Sermons  connected  with  Prophecy  is  still  waiting,  but  I 
hope  that  it  may  come  out  before  the  winter.  It  is  a  great  joy  to  me  to 
think  that  it  will  not  give  offence  to  any  one,  but  will  at  any  rate,  I  trust,  be 
considered  as  safe,  and  as  far  as  it  goes  useful.  I  have  no  pleasure  in  writ- 
ing what  is  unacceptable,  though  I  confess,  that,  the  more  I  study  any 
subject,  the  more  it  seems  to  me  to  require  to  be  treated  differently  from  the 
way  in  which  it  has  been  treated.  It  is  grievous  to  think  how  much  has 
been  written  about  things  with  such  imperfect  knowledge,  or  with  such  nar- 
row views,  as  leaves  the  whole  thing  to  be  done  again.  Not  that  I  mean 
that  it  can  be  so  done  in  our  time,  as  to  leave  nothing  for  posterity : — on  the 
contrary,  we  know  how  imperfect  our  own  knowledge  is,  and  how  much 
requires  yet  to  be  learned.  Still  in  this  generation  an  immense  step  has 
been  made,  both  in  knowledge  and  in  large  and  critical  views ;  and  this 
makes  the  writings  of  a  former  age  so  unsatisfactory.  In  reading  them  I 
never  can  feel  satisfied  that  we  have  got  to  the  bottom  of  a  question. 

I  was  very  much  delighted  to  have staying  at  Rugby 

for  nearly  a  week  with  us  in  the  spring.  I  had  not  had  any  talk  with  him 
since  he  was  my  pupil  at  Laleham.  I  was  struck  with  the.  recoil  of  his 
opinions  towards  Toryism,  or  at  any  rate  half-Toryism, — a  result,  which  I 
have  seen  in  other  instances  where  the  original  anti-Tory  feeling  was  what 
I  call  "  popular  "  rather  than  "  liberal,"  and  took  up  the  notion  of  liberty 
rather  than  of  improvement.  I  do  not  think  that  Liberty  can  well  be  the 
idol  of  a  good  and  sensible  mind  after  a  certain  age.  My  abhorrence  of 
Conservatism  is  not  because  it  checks  liberty, — in  an  established  democracy 
it  would  favour  liberty  ;  but  because  it  checks  the  growth  of  mankind  in 
wisdom,  goodness  and  happiness,  by  striving  to  maintain  institutions  which 
are  of  necessity  temporary,  and  thus  never  hindering  change,  but  often  de- 
priving the  change  of  half  its  value. 


CIX.       TO    MR.    JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  July  1,1835. 

I  thank  you  most  heartily  for  both  your  affectionate  letters.  When  I 
suspect  you  of  unkindness,  or  feel  offended  with  any  thing  that  you  say  or 
write  to  me,  I  must  have  cast  off  my  nature  indeed  very  sadly.  Be  assured 
that  there  was  nothing  in  your  first  letter  which  you  could  wish  unwritten, 
nothing  that  was  not  written  in  the  true  spirit  of  friendship.  I  was  vexed 
only  thus  far,  that  I  coul(#not  explain  many  points  to  you,  which  I  think 
would  have  altered  your  judgment  as  to  the  facts  of  the  case. 

......     My  dear  friend,  I  know  and  feel  the  many  great  faults  of 

my  life  and  practice ;  and  grieve  more  than  I  can  say  not  to  have  more  in- 
tercourse with  those  friends  who  used  to  reprove  me,  I  think,  to  my  great 
benefit — I  am  sure  without  ever  giving  me  offence.  But  I  cannot  allow  that 
those  opinions,  which  I  earnestly  believe,  after  many  years'  thought  and 
study,  to  be  entirely  according  to  Christ's  mind,  and  most  tending  to  His 
glory,  and  the  good  of  His  Church,  shall  be  summarily  called  heretical; 
and  it  is  something  of  a  trial  to  be  taxed  with  perverting  my  boys'  religious 
principles,  when  I  am  labouring,  though  most  imperfectly,  to  lead  them  to 
Christ  in  true  and  devoted  faith  ;  and  when  I  hold  all  the  scholarship  that 
ever  man  had,  to  be  infinitely  worthless  in 'comparison  with  even  a  very 
humble  degree  of  spiritual  advancement.  And  I  think  that  I  have  seen  my 
work  in  some  instances  blessed  ; — riot,  I  trust,  to  make  me  proud  of  it,  or 
think  that  I  have  any  thing  to  be  satisfied  with, — yet  so  far  as  to  make  it 
very  painful  to  be  looked  upon  as  an  enemy  by  those  whose  Master  I  would 
serve  as  heartily,  and  whom,  if  I  dare  say  it,  I  love  with  as  sincere  an  affec- 
tion as  they  do. 

God  bless  you,  and  thank  you  for  all  your  kindness  to  me  always. 


254  LIFE  0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 


CX.      TO    C.  J.  VAUGHAN,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  September  9,  1835. 

It  is  very  hard  to  know  what  to  say  of  Hatch  as  to  his 

bodily  health,  because,  though  appearances  are  unfavourable,  Dr.  Jephson 
still  speaks  confidently  of  his  recovery ;  but  it  is  not  hard  to  know  what  to 
say  of  his  mind,  which,  I  believe,  is  quite  what  we  could  wish  it  to  be.  He 
always  seemed  to  me  a  most  guileless  person  when  in  health, — guileless  and 
living  in  the  fear  of  God, — in  such  circumstances  sickness  does  but  feed  and 
purify  the  flame,  which  was  before  burning  strong  and  brightly.  He  will 
be  delighted  to  hear  from  you,  and  would  be  interested  by  any  Cambridge 
news  that  you  could  send  him,  for  I  think  he  must  find  himself  often  in 
want  of  amusement,  and  of  something  to  vary  the  day.  I  am  glad  that,  you 
have  made  acquaintance  with  some  of  the  good  poor.  I  quite  agree  with 
you  that  it  is  most  instructive  to  visit  them,  and  I  think  that  you  are  right 
in  what  you  say  of  their  more  lively  faith.  We  hold  to  earth  and  earthly 
things  by  so  many  more  links  of  thought,  if  not  of  affection,  that  it  is  far 
harder  to  keep  our  view  of  heaven  clear  and  strong ;  when  this  life  is  so 
busy,  and  therefore  so  full  of  reality  to  us,  another  life  seems  by  comparison 
unreal.  This  is  our  condition,  and  its  peculiar  temptations ;  but  we  must 
endure  it,  and  strive  to  overcome  them,  for  I  think  we  may  not  try  to  flee 
from  it. 

I  have  begun  the  Phsedo  of  Plato  with  the  Sixth,  which 

will  be  a  great  delight  to  me.  There  is  an  actual  pleasure  in  contemplating 
so  perfect  a  management  of  so  perfect  an  instrument  as  is  exhibited  in  Pla- 
to's language,  even  if  the  matter  were  as  worthless  as  the  words  of  Italian 
music  ;  whereas  the  sense  is  only  less  admirable  in  many  places  than  the 
language.  I  am  still  in  distress  for  a  Latin  book,  and  wish  that  there  were 
a  cheap  edition  of  Bacon's  Instauratio  Magna.  I  would  use  it  and  make  it 
useful  in  point  of  Latinity,  by  setting  the  fellows  to  correct  the  style  where 
it  is  cumbrous  or  incorrect.  As  to  Livy,  the  use  of  reading  him  is  almost 
like  that  of  the  drunken  Helot.  It  shows  what  history  should  not  be  in  a  very 
striking  manner ;  and,  though  the  value  to  us  of  much  of  ancient  literature  is 
greatly  out  of  proportion  to  its  intrinsic  merit,  yet  the  books  of  Livy,  which 
we  have,  relate  to  a  time  so  uninteresting,  that  it  is  hard  even  to  extract  a 
value  from  them  by  the  most  complete  distillation  ;  so  many  gallons  of  vapid 
water  scarcely  hold  in  combination  a  particle  of  spirit. 


CXI.      TO    CHEVALIER    BUNSEN. 

Rugby,  September  21,  1835. 

I  have  been  and  am  working  at  two  main  things,  the 

Roman  History  and  the  nature  and  interpretation  of  Prophecy.  For  the  first 
I  have  been  working  at  Hannibal's  passage  of  the  Alps.  How  bad  a  geo- 
grapher is  Polybius,  and  how  strange  that  he  should  be  thought  a  good  one! 
Compare  him  with  any  man  who  is  really  a  geographer,  with  Herodotus, 
with  Napoleon, — whose  sketches  of  Italy,  Egypt,  and  Syria,  in  his  memoirs, 
are  to  me  unrivalled, — or  with  Niebuhr,  and  how  striking  is  the  difference. 
The  dulness  of  Polybius'  fancy  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  conceive  or 
paint  scenery  clearly,  and  how  can  a  man  be  a  geographer  without  lively 
images  of  the  formation  and  features  of  the  country  which  he  describes? 
How  different  are  the  several  Alpine  valleys,  and  how  would  a  few  simple 
touches  of  the  scenery  which  he  seems  actually  to  have  visited,  yet  could 
neither  understand  nor  feel  it,  have  decided  for  ever  the  question  of  the  route  ! 
Now  the  account  suits  no  valley  well,  and  therefore  it  may  be  applied  to 
many ;  but  I  believe  the  real  line  was  by  the  Little  St.  Bernard,  although  I 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  255 

cannot  trace  those  particular  spots,  which  De  Luc  and  Cramer  fancy  they 
could  recognise.  I  thought  so  on  the  spot,  (i.  e.  that  the  spots  could  not  be 
traced,)  when  I  crossed  the  Little  St.  Bernard,  in  1825,  with  Polybius  in  my 
hand,  and  I  think  so  still.  How  much  we  want  a  physical  history  of  coun- 
tries, tracing  the  changes  which  they  have  undergone  either  by  such  violent 
revolutions  as  volcanic  phenomena,  or  by  the  slower  but  not  less  complete 
change  produced  by  ordinary  causes ;  such  as  alterations  of  climate  occa- 
sioned by  inclosing  and  draining ;  alteration  in  the  course  of  rivers,  and  in 
the  level  of  their  beds ;  alteration  in  the  animal  and  vegetable  productions 
of  the  soil,  and  in  the  supply  of  metals  and  minerals  ;  noticing  also  the 
advance  or  retreat  of  the  sea,  and  the  origin  and  successive  increase  in  the 
number  and  variation  in  the  line  of  roads,  together  with  the  changes  in  the 
extent  and  character  of  the  woodlands.  How  much  might  be  done  by  our 
Society  at  Rome  if  some  of  its  attention  were  directed  to  these  points :  for 
instance,  drainage  and  an  alteration  in  the  course  of  the  waters  have  pro- 
duced great  changes  in  Tuscany ;  and  there  is  also  the  interesting  question 

as  to  the  spread  of  malaria  in  the  Maremme I  read  with  the 

greatest  interest  all  that  you  say  about  Hebrew  and  the  Old  Testament,  and 
your  researches  into  the  chronology  and  composition  of  the  books  of  the 
New.  It  is  strange  to  see  how  much  of  ancient  history  consists  apparently 
of  patches  put  together  from  various  quarters  without  any  redaction.  Is  not 
this  largely  the  case  in  the  books  of  Samuel,  Kings,  and  Chronicles  1  For 
instance,  are  not  chapters  xxiv.  and  xxvi.  of  1  Samuel,  merely  different  ver- 
sions of  the  same  event,  just  as  we  have  two  accounts  of  the  creation  in  the 
early  chapters  of  Genesis  1  And  must  not  chapters  xvi.  and  xvii.  of  the 
same  book  be  also  from  different  sources,  the  account  of  David  in  the  one 
being  quite  inconsistent  with  that  in  the  other?  So,  again,  in  2  Chronicles 
xi.  20,  and  xiii.  2,  there  is  a  decided  difference  in  the  parentage  of  Abijah's 
mother,  which  is  curious  on  any  supposition.  Do  you  agree  with  Schieier- 
macher  in  denying  Paul  to  be  the  author  of  the  Epistles  to  Timothy  and 
Titus  ?  I  own  it  seems  to  me  that  they  are  as  certainly  Paul's  as  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans ;  nor  can  I  understand  the  reason  for  any  doubt  about  the 
matter.  And  yet  Schleiermacher  could  not  write  any  thing,  I  should; sup- 
pose, without  some  good  reasons  for  it.1 


CXU.      *  TO    J.    P.    GELL,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  September  30,  1835. 

My  situation  here,  if  it  has  its  anxieties,  has  also  many  great  pleasures, 
amongst  the  highest  of  which  are  such  letters  as  that  which  you  have  had 
the  kindness  to  write  to  me.  I  value  it  indeed,  very  greatly,  and  sincerely 
thank  you  for  it.  I  had  been  often  told  that  I  should  know  you  much  more 
after  you  had  left  Rugby,  than  I  had  ever  done  before,  and  your  letter  encou- 
rages me  to  hope  that  it  will  be  so.  You  will  not  think  that  it  is  a  mere 
form  of  civil  words,  when  I  say  we  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  you  here,  if 
you  can  take  us  in  your  way  to  Cambridge,  or  in  Westmoreland  in  the  win- 
ter, if  you  do  not  start  at  the  thought  of  a  Christmas  among  the  mountains. 
But  I  can  assure  you  that  you  will  find  them  most  beautiful  in  their  winter 
dress,  and  the  valleys  very  humanized.  I  have  just  seen,  but  not  read,  the 
second  number  of  the  Rugby  Magazine.  I  have  an  unmixed  pleasure  in 
its  going  on, — perhaps,  just  under  actual  circumstances,  more  than  at  some 
former  time,  because  I  think  it  is  more  wanted.  We  shall  soon  lose  Lake 
and  Simpkinson  and  the  others,  who  go  up  this  year  to  the  University. 
There  is  always  a  melancholy  feeling  in  seeing  the  last  sheaf  carried  of  a 
good  harvest;  for  who  knows  what  maybe  the  crop  of  the  next  year?  But 
this,  happily  for  us,  is,  both  in  the  natural  and  in  the  moral  harvest,  in  the 

1  For  his  full  view  on  this  subject,  see  Serm.  vol.  iv  p.  461 — 491. 


/ 


256  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

hands  of  Him  who  can  make  disappointment  and  scarcity  do  His  work,  no 
less  than  success  and  plenty. 


CXI1I.       *  TO    A.    P.    STANLEY,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  October  7,  1835. 

I  am  delighted  to  find  that  you  are  coming  to  Rugby ;  in  fact,  I  was  go- 
ing to  write  to  you  to  try  whether  we  could  not  get  you  here  either  in  your 
way  to  or  from  Oxford, — as  I  suppose  that,  even  after  all  the  length  of  the 
long  vacation,  you  will  be  at  liberty  before  us  at  Christmas.  Thank  you 
for  your  congratulations  on  my  little  boy's  birth :  he  grows  so  much  and 
Fan  so  little,  that  I  think  he  will  soon  overtake  her ;  though  it  will  be  well 
if  ever  he  rivals  her  in  quickness  and  liveliness. 

I  think  it  probable  that  about  the  time  when  his  old  companions  are  be- 
ginning their  new  course  of  earthly  life  at  the  Universities,  Hatch  will  be 
entering  upon  the  beginning  of  his  eternal  life.  He  grows  so  much  worse, 
that  yesterday  he  was  hardly  expected  to  outlive  the  day.  I  think  myself 
that  his  trial  will  be  somewhat  longer ;  but  I  believe  that  his  work  is  over, 
and  am  no  less  persuaded  that  his  rest  in  Christ  is  sure. 

I  shall  be  glad  to  talk  over  all  things  with  you  when  we  meet :  be  sure 
that  you  cannot  come  here  too  often : — I  never  was  less  disposed  than  I  am 
at  this  moment  to  let  drop  or  to  intermit  my  intercourse  with  my  old  pupils ; 
which  is  to  me  one  of  the  freshest  springs  of  my  life. 


CXIV.       TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.       (b.) 

Rugby,  October  30,  1835. 

I  am  a  little  disturbed  by  what  you  tell  me  of  your  health. 

and  can  readily  understand  it  makes  you  look  at  all  things  with  a  less 
cheerful  eye  than  1  could  wish.  Besides,  all  great  changes  in  life  are  solemn 
things,  when  we  think  of  them,  and  have  naturally  their  grave  side  as 
well  as  their  merely  happy  one.  This  is  in  itself  only  wholesome,  but  the 
grave  side  may  be  unduly  darkened  if  we  who  look  on  it  are  ourselves  out 
of  tune.  I  am  glad  that  you  have  written  again  to  Thompson:  his  report  of 
you  to  me  was  very  satisfactory,  and  I  have  great  faith  in  his  skill.  Re- 
member, however,  that  exercise  must  not  be  wearisome,  and  especially  not 
wearisome  to  the  mind,  if  it  is  to  be  really  beneficial.  I  never  have  regard- 
ed a  regular  walk  along  the  road,  talking  the  while  on  subjects  of  interest, 
as  exercise  in  the  true  sense  of  the  term.  A  skirmish  over  the  country 
is  a  very  different  thing,  and  so  is  all  that  partakes  of  the  character  of  play 
or  sport. 

.  .  .  .,  .  .  Believe  me  that  it  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  hear  from 
you,  and  you  must  not  think  that  any  parts  of  your  letters  are  unnoticed  by 
me,  or  uninteresting,  if  I  do  not  especially  reply  to  them.  I  value  very 
much  the  expression  of  your  feelings,  and  I  think  have  a  very  true  sympa- 
thy with  them. 


CXV.       TO    MR.    JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  October  12, 1835. 

Our  visit  to  Westmoreland  was  short,  for  we  returned 

home  early  in  August,  to  be  ready  for  my  wife's  confinement.     But  I  could 
not  have  enjoyed  three  weeks  more ;  for  the  first  week  we  had  so  much 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  357 

rain  that  the  Rotha  flooded  a  part  of  our  grass.  Afterwards  we  had  the 
most  brilliant  weather,  which  brought  our  flowers  out  in  the  greatest  beau- 
ty ;  bat  the  preceding  rain  kept  us  quite  green,  and  the  contrast  was  griev- 
ous in  that  respect  when  we  came  back  to  the  brown  fields  of  Warwickshire. 
But  I  cannot  tell  you,  how  I  enjoyed  our  fortnight  at  Rugby  before  the 
school  opened.  It  quite  reminded  me  of  Oxford,  when  Mary  and  I  used  to 
sit  out  in  the  garden  under  the  enormous  elms  of  the  School-field,  which  al- 
most overhang  the  house,  and  saw  the  line  of  our  battlemented  roofs  and  the 
pinnacles  and  cross  of  our  Chapel  cutting  the  unclouded  sky.  And  I  had 
divers  happy  little  matches  at  cricket  with  my  own  boys  in  the  school-field, 
on  the  very  cricket-ground  of  the  "  eleven,"  that  is,  of  the  best  players  in 
the  school,  on  which,  when  the  school  is  assembled,  no  profane  person  may 
encroach.  Then  came  my  wife's  happy  confinement,  before  which  we  had 
had  a  very  happy  visit  of  a  day  from  the  whole  family  of  Hulls,  and  which 
was  succeeded  by  a  no  less  happy  visit  from  the  whole  family  of  Whatelys. 

Have  you  seen  our  Rugby  Magazine,  of  which  the  second  number  has 
just  made  its  appearance  ?  It  is  written  wholly  either  by  boys  actually  at 
the  school,  or  by  under-graduates  within  their  first  year.  I.  delight  in  the 
spirit  of  it,  and  think  there  is  much  ability  in  many  of  the  articles.  I  think 
also  that  it  is  likely  to  do  good  to  the  school. 

We  have  lost  this  year  more  than  half  of  our  Sixth  Form,  so  that  the  in- 
flux of  new  elements  has  been  rather  disproportionately  great ;  and  unluck- 
ily the  average  of  talent  just  in  this  part  of  the  school  is  not  high.  We  have 
a  very  good  promise  below,  but  at  present  we  shall  have  great  difficulty  in 
maintaining  our  ground ;  and  then  I  always  fear  that,  where  the  intellect  is 
low,  the  animal  part  will  predominate  ;  and  that  moral  evils  will  increase,  as 
well  |as  intellectual  proficiency  decline,  under  such  a  state  of  things.  At 
present  I  think  that  the  boys  seem  very  well  disposed,  and  I  trust  that,  in 
this  far  more  important  matter,  we  shall  work  through  our  time  of  less  bright 
sunshine  without  material  injury.  It  would  overpay  me  for  far  greater  un- 
easiness and  labour  than  I  have  ever  had  at  Rugby,  to  see  the  feeling  both 
towards  the  school  and  towards  myself  personally  with  which  some  of  our 
boys  have  been  lately  leaving  us.  One  staid  with  us  in  the  house  -for  his 
last  week  at  Rugby,  dreading  the  approach  of  the  day  which  should  take 
him  to  Oxford,  although  he  was  going  up  to  a  most  delightful  society  of  old 
friends;  and,  when  he  actually  came  to  take  leave,  I  really  think  that  the 
parting  was  like  that  of  a  father  and  his  son.  And  it  is  delightful  to  me  to 
find  how  glad  all  the  better  boys  are  to  come  back  here  after  they  have  left 
it,  and  how  much  they  seem  to  enjoy  staying  with  me  ;  while  a  sure  instinct 
keeps  at  a  distance  all  whose  recollections  of  the  place  are  connected  with 
no  comfortable  reflections.  Meantime  I  write  nothing,  and  read  barely 
enough  to  keep  my  mind  in  the  state  of  a  running  stream,  which  I  think  it 
ought  to  be  if  it  would  form  and  feed  other  minds ;  for  it  is  ill  drinking  out  of 
a  pond,  whose  stock  of  water  is  merely  the  remains  of  the  long  past  rains  of 
the  winter  and  spring,  evaporating  and  diminishing  with  every  successive 
day  of  drought.  We  are  reading  now  Plato's  Phsedon,  which  I  suppose 
must  be  nearly  the  perfection  of  human  language.  The  admirable  precision 
of  the  great  Attic  writers  is  to  me  very  striking.  When  you  get  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  language,  they  are  clearer  than  I  think  an  English  writer 
can  be  from  the  inferiority  of  his  instrument.  I  often  think  that  I  could  have 
understood  your  Uncle  better  if  he  had  written  in  Platonic  Greek.  His 
Table  Talk  marks  him,  in  my  judgment,  .  .  .  .  as  a  very  great  man 
indeed,  whose  equal  I  know  not  where  to  find  in  England.  It  amused  me 
to  recognise,  in  your  contributions  to  the  book,  divers  anecdotes  which  used 
to  excite  the  open-mouthed  admiration  of  the  C.C.C.  Junior  Common  Room 
in  the  Easter  and  Act  Terms  of  1811,  after  your  Easter  vacation  spent  with 
Mr.  May  at  Richmond.  My  paper  is  at  an  end,  but  not  my  matter.  Per- 
haps I  may  see  you  in  the  winter  in  town. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE,  SEPTEMBER  1835  TO  NOVEMBER  1838. 

There  is  little  to  distinguish  the  next  three  years  of  Dr.  Arnold's 
life  from  those  which  precede.  The  strong  feeling  against  him. 
though  with  some  abatement  of  its  vehemence,  still  continued  ; 
the  effect  of  it  was  perhaps  visible  in  the  slight  falling  off  in  the 
numbers  of  the  school  in  1837-38,  at  the  time  of  the  very  height  of 
its  academical  reputation ;  and  in  his  own  profession  it  appeared 
so  generally  to  prevail,  that,  on  occasion  of  a  proposal  to  him  from 
the  present  Bishop  of  Norwich  to  preach  his  Consecration  sermon 
at  Lambeth,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  thought  it  his  duty  to 
withhold  his  permission,  solely  on  the  ground  of  the  unfavourable 
reception  which  he  supposed  it  would  meet  among  the  clergy.  But 
his  letters,  and  some  of  the  Sermons  in  the  fourth  volume,  preach- 
ed at  this  time,  show  how  this  period  of  comparative  silence  was 
yet,  both  in  thought  and  action,  most  emphatically  his  period  of 
battle  ;  when,  as  if  tired  of  acting  on  the  defensive,  he  was  at  last 
roused  to  attack  in  return.  The  vehemence  of  the  outcry  by  which 
he  had  been  assailed,  drove  him  into  a  more  controversial  atmos- 
phere. The  fact  of  the  more  positive  formation  of  his  own  opinions 
brought  him  more  immediately  into  collision  with  the  positive 
opinions  of  others.  The  view  with  which  he  thus  entered  on  his 
chief  actual  contests  with  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  two  great 
evils  of  the  age,  is  expressed  in  the  twentieth  Sermon  in  the  fourth 
volume,  preached  September,  1836,  on  the-opposite  idols  of  unbelief 
and  superstition,  and  on  the  only  mode  by  which,  in  his  judgment, 
either  could  be  counteracted.  These  two  contests  were,  on  the 
one  hand,  against  the  school  then  dominant  in  the  London  Uni- 
versity ;  on  the  other  hand,  against  the  school  then  dominant  in 
Oxford. 

I.  And  first,  with  regard  to  Oxford.  From  the  earliest  forma- 
tion of  his  opinions  he  had  looked  upon  (so-called)  High  Church 
doctrines  as  a  great  obstruction  to  the  full  development  of  national 
Christianity.     But,  up  to  the  time  here  spoken  of,  these  doctrines 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  359 

were  held  in  a  form  too  vague  and  impalpable  to  come  into  imme- 
diate collision  with  any  of  his  own  views.  When  he  wrote  the 
pamphlet  on  the  Roman  Catholic  question  in  1829,  he  could  refer 
to  a  sermon  of  the  Rev.  W.  F.  Hook,  on  the  Apostolical  Succession, 
as  a  strange  exception  to  the  general  tone  of  English  Clergymen. 
When  he  wrote  his  pamphlet  on  Church  Reform  in  1833,  he  could 
still  speak  of  "  those  extraordinary  persons  who  gravely  maintain 
that  primitive  episcopacy,  and  episcopacy  as  it  now  exists  in  Eng- 
land, are  essentially  the  same."  (Postscript,  p.  13.)  No  definite 
system  seemed  to  stand  in  the  way  of  what  he  conceived  to  be  the 
best  method  of  saving  the  English  Church  and  nation  ;  and  if  in 
any  instances  deeper  principles  than  those  of  the  old  High  Church 
party  were  at  work,  his  sense  of  disagreement  seemed  almost  lost 
in  the  affectionate  reverence,  with  which  he  regarded  the  friends 
of  his  youth  who  held  them.  His  foremost  thought  in  speaking  of 
them  was  of  "  men  at  once  pious,  high-minded,  intelligent,  and  full 
of  all  kindly  feelings,  whose  intense  love  for  the  forms  of  the 
Church,  fostered  as  it  has  been  by  all  the  blest  associations  of  their 
pure  and  holy  lives,  has  absolutely  engrossed  their  whole  nature, 
so  that  they  have  neither  eyes  to  see  of  themselves  any  defect  in 
the  Liturgy  and  Articles,  nor  ears  to  hear  of  such,  when  alleged  by 
others."  His  statement  of  his  own  opinions  was  blended  with  the 
bitter  regret  that  "  they  will  not  be  willing  to  believe  how  deeply 
painful  it  is  to  my  mind  to  know  that  I  am  regarded  by  them  as  an 
adversary,  still  more  to  feel  that  I  am  associated  in  their  judgment 
with  principles  and  with  a  party  which  I  abhor  as  deeply  as  they 
do."     (Church  Reform,  p.  83.) 

But  in  1834,  35,  36,  he  found  his  path  crossed  suddenly,  and 
for  the  first  time,  by  a  compact  body,  round  which  all  the  floating 
elements  of  High  Church  opinions  seemed  to  crystallize  as  round 
a  natural  centre :  and  to  him,  seeing,  as  he  did  from  the  very  first, 
the  unexpected  revival  of  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  worst  evils 
of  Roman  Catholicism,  the  mere  shock  of  astonishment  was  such 
as  can  hardly  be  imagined  by  those  who  did  not  share  with  him 
the  sense  either  of  the  suddenness  of  its  first  appearance,  or  of  the 
consequences  contained  in  it.  And  further,  this  first  impression 
was  of  a  kind  peculiarly  offensive  to  all  the  tendencies  of  his  nature, 
positive  as  well  as  negative.  Almost  the  only  subject  insisted  upon 
in  the  two  first  volumes  of  "  the  Tracts  for  the  Times,"  1833--36, 
(so  far  as  they  consisted  of  original  papers,)  was  the  importance  of 
"the  Apostolical  Succession"  of  the  clergy,  and  the  consequent  ex- 
clusive claims  of  the  Church  of  England  to  be  regarded  as  the  only 
true  Church  in  England,  if  not  in  the  world.  In  other  words,  the 
one  doctrine  which  was  then  put  forward  as  the  cure  for  the  moral 
and  social  evils  of  the  country,  which  he  felt  so  keenly,  was  the 
one  point  in  their  system,  which  he  always  regarded  as  morally 
powerless,  and  intellectually  indefensible  ;  as  incompatible  with  all 
sound  notions  of  law  and  government ;  and  as  tending  above  all 
things   to   substitute   a   ceremonial  for  a  spiritual  Christianity  ; 


260  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

whilst  of  the  many  later  developments  of  the  system,1  which  had 
been  objects  of  his  admiration  and  aspirations,  long  before  or  alto- 
gether independently  of  the  Tracts  in  question,  little  was  said  at 
all,  and  hardly  any  thing  urged  prominently. 

On  this  new  portent,  as  he  deemed  it,  thus  brought  before  his 
notice,  the  dislike,  which  he  naturally  entertained  towards  the 
principles  embodied  in  its  appearance,  became  at  once  concentrated. 
For  individual  members  of  the  party  he  often  testified  his  respect; 
and  towards  those  whom  he  had  known  personally  he  never  lost 
his  affection,  or  relinquished  his  endeavours  to  maintain  a  friendly 
intercourse  with  them.  Still  for  the  future  he  looked  upon  the 
body  itself,  not  as  formerly,  through  the  medium  of  its  constituent 
members,  but  of  its  principles  ;  the  almost  imploring  appeal  to  their 
sympathy,  which  has  been  quoted  from  the  close  of  the  Pamphlet 
of  1833,  was  never  repeated.  He  no  longer  dwelt  on  the  reflection 
that  "  in  the  Church  of  England  even  bigotry  often  wears  a  softer 
and  a  nobler  aspect,"  and  that  "  it  could  be  no  ordinary  Church  to 
have  inspired  such  devoted  adoration  in  such  men,  nor  they  ordi- 
nary men,  over  whom  a  sense  of  high  moral  beauty  should  have 
obtained  so  complete  a  mastery."  (lb.  p.  83.)  He  rather  felt  him- 
self called  to  insist  on  what  he  regarded  as  the  dark  side  of  the 
picture  ;  "  on  the  fanaticism  which  has  been  the  peculiar  disgrace 
of  the  Church  of  England,"  "  a  dress,  a  ritual,  a  name,  a  ceremony, 
a  technical  phraseology, — the  superstition  of  a  priesthood  without 
its  power, — the  form  of  Episcopal  government  without  its  sub- 
stance,— a  system  imperfect  and  paralyzed,  not  independent,  not 
sovereign, — afraid  to  cast  off  the  subjection  against  which  it  was 
perpetually  murmuring, — objects  so  pitiful,  that,  if  gained  ever  so 
completely,  they  would  make  no  man  the  wiser  or  the  better  ; 
they  would  lead  to  no  good,  intellectual,  moral,  or  spiritual."  (Ed. 
Rev.  vol.  lxiii.  p.  235.) 

And  all  his  feelings  of  local  and  historical  associations  com- 
bined to  aggravate  the  unfavourable  aspect,  under  which  this 
school  presented  itself  to  him.  Those  only  who  knew  his  love  for 
Oxford,  as  he  thought  it  ought  to  be,  can  understand  his  indigna- 
tion against  it,  as  he  thought  it  was ;  nor  were  the  passionate 
sympathies  and  antipathies  of  the  exiled  Italian  poet  more  sharp- 
ened by  conflicting  feelings  towards  the  ideal  and  actual  Florence, 
than  were'  those  of  the  English  theologian  and  citizen  towards  Ox- 
ford, the  "  ancient  and  magnificent  University"  on  the  banks  of  the 
Thames,  alike  beloved  as  the  scene  of  his  early  friendships,  and 
longed  for  as  the  scene  of  his  dreams  of  future  usefulness ;  and 
Oxford,  the  home  of  the  Tory  and  High  Church  clergy,  the  strong- 
hold of  those  tendencies  in  England  which  seemed  to  make  him 
their  peculiar  victim.  And  again,  those  only  who  knew  how  long 
and  deeply  he  had  dreaded  the  principles,  which  he  now  seemed 
to  himself  to  see  represented  in  bodily  shape  before  him,  will  un- 

1  As  one  out  of  many  instances  may  be  mentioned  the  views  already  quoted,  p.  139. 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


261 


derstand  the  severity  with  which,  when  strongly  moved,  he  attack- 
ed this  class  of  opinions.  "  I  doubt,"  he  said  in  a  letter  of  1838,  in 
vindication  of  the  absolute  repulsion  which  he  felt  at  that  time  to 
any  one  professing  admiration  for  them,  ':  1  doubt  whether  I  should 
be  a  good  person  to  deal  with  any  body  who  is  inclined  to  New- 
manism.  Not  living  in  Oxford,  and  seeing  only  the  books  of  the 
Newmanites,1  and  considering  only  their  system,  any  mind  that 
can  turn  towards  them,  i.  e.  their  books  and  their  system,  with  any 
thing  less  than  unmixed  aversion,  appears  to  be  already  diseased ; 
and  do  what  I  will,  I  cannot  make  allowance  enough  for  the  pe- 
culiar circumstances  of  Oxford,  because  I  cannot  present  them  to 
my  mind  distinctly.  You  must  remember  that  their  doctrines  are 
not  to  me  like  a  new  thing,  which,  never  having  crossed  my  mind 
before,  requires  now  a  full  and  impartial  examination  ;  all  their 
notions  and  their  arguments  in  defence  of  them,  (bating  some  sur- 
passing extravagances  which  the  intoxication  of  success  has  given 
birth  to,)  have  been  familiar  to  my  mind  for  years.  They  are  the 
very  errors  which,  in  studying  moral  and  religious  truth,  I  have 
continually  had  to  observe  and  to  eschew  ;  the  very  essence  of 
one  of  the  two  great  divisions  of  human  falsehood,  against  which 
the  wisdom  of  God  and  man  has  most  earnestly,  combated, — in 
which  man's  folly  and  wickedness  has  ever  found  its  favourite 
nourishment." 

To  these  general  feelings,  which,  though  expressed  at  times 
more  strongly  than  usual,  he  never  altogether  lost,  were  added 
occasional  bursts  of  indignation  at  particular  developments  of  what 
he  conceived  to  be  the  natural  tendency  of  the  school  to  grave 
moral  faults.  These  occasions  will  appear  in  his  letters  as  they 
occur  ;  of  which  the  first  and  most  memorable  was  the  controversy 
relating  to  the  appointment  of  Dr.  Hampden  to  the  Regius  Pro- 
fessorship of  Divinity,  at  Oxford,  in  the  spring  of  1836. 

His  feelings  at  this  juncture  were  shared  in  some  respects  by 
many  others.  Many  on  the  one  hand  who,  in  general  opinion, 
widely  differed  from  him,  were  yet  equally  with  himself  persuaded 
that  there  was  great  unfairness  in  the  extracts  then  made  from 
Dr.  Hampden's  writings  ;  and  on  the  other  hand  it  is  no  less  cer- 
tain, that  the  most  eminent  of  those  who  compiled  and  circulated 
the  extracts  had  almost  as  little  sympathy  as  himself  with  the 
general  conduct  and  feeling  of  those  who  supported  them  in  the 
columns  of  the  London  press,  and  in  the  tumultuous  assemblies 

1  Lest  the  occurrence  of  this  phrase  here  and  elsewhere  in  the  correspondence,  in 
speaking  colloquially  of  the  opinions  in  question,  should  bear  a  more  personal  allusion  to 
living  individuals  than  was  in  his  mind,  it  is  right  to  give  from  the  preface  to  his  fourth 
volume  of  Sermons,  his  own  deliberate  notice  ef  a  similar  use  of  the  name.  "  In  naming 
Mr.  Newman  as  the  chief  author  of  the  system  which  I  have  been  considering,  I  have  in 
no  degree  wished  to  make  the  question  personal,  but  Mr.  Perceval's  letter  authorizes  us  to 
consider  him  as  one  of  the  authors  of  it  ;  and,  as  I  have  never  had  any  personal  acquaint- 
ance with  him,  I  could  mention  his  name  with  no  shock  to  any  private  feelings  either  in 
him  or  in  myself.  But  I  have  spoken  of  him  simply  as  the  maintainer  of  certain  doc- 
trines, not  as  maintaining  them  in  any  particular  manner,  far  less  as  actuated  by  any  par 
ticular  motives." 


262 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


called  together  to  the  Oxford  convocation.  But  there  were  several 
points  which  combined  to  make  it  peculiarly  exasperating  to  one 
with  his  views  and  in  his  position.  The  very  fact  of  an  opposition 
to  an  appointment,  which  on  public  grounds  he  had  so  much  de- 
sired, was  in  itself  irritating, — the  accusations,  which,  whether 
just  or  unjust,  were  based  on  subtle  distinctions,  alien  alike  to  his 
taste  and  his  character,  and  especially  calculated  to  offend  and 
astonish  him,  the  general  gathering  of  the  Clergy,  both  of  those 
whom  he  regarded  as  fanatics,  and  those  whom  he  emphatically 
denounced  as  the  party  of  Hophni  and  Phinehas,  to  condemn,  in 
his  judgment,  on  false  grounds,  by  an  irregular  tribunal,  an  inno- 
cent individual, — provoked  in  equal  measure  his  anger  and  his 
scorn  ;  his  sense  of  truth  and  justice,  and  his  natural  impetuosity 
in  behalf  of  what  he  deemed  to  be  right. 

Whatever  feelings  had  been  long  smouldering  in  his  mind 
against  the  spirit  of  the  Conservative  and  High  Church  party, 
which  for  the  last  three  years  had  been  engaged  with  him  in  such 
extreme  hostility,  took  fire  at  last  at  the  sight  of  that  spirit,  dis- 
playing itself  in  that  place,  on  such  an  occasion,  and  under  such  a 
form,  with  such  tremendous  strength  and  vehemence.  And,  as 
usual,  the  whole  scene  was  invested  in  his  eyes  with  a  tenfold  in- 
terest by  the  general  principles  which  it  seemed  to  involve.  In  the 
place  of  the  Oxford  Convocation  there  rose  before  him  the  image, 
which  he  declared  that  he  could  not  put  away  from  him,  of  the 
Nonjurors  reviling  Burnet — of  the  Council  of  Constance  condemn- 
ing Huss — of  the  Judaizers  banded  together  against  St.  Paul. 

That  the  object  of  attack  was  not  himself,  but  another,  and  that 
other  barely  known  to  him,  only  made  it  the  more  impossible  for 
him  to  keep  silence  ;  and  accordingly,  under  the  influence  of  these 
combined  feelings,  and  with  his  usual  rapidity  of  composition,  he 
gave  vent  to  his  indignation  in  an  article  in  the  Edinburgh  Review, 
of  April,  1836,  entitled  by  the  Editor  "  The  Oxford  Malignants." 
It  is  painful  to  dwell  on  a  subject  of  which  the  immediate  interest 
is  passed  away,  and  of  which  the  mention  must  give  pain  to  many 
concerned.  But,  though  only  a  temporary  production,  it  forms  a 
feature  in  his  life  too  strongly  marked  to  be  passed  over  without 
notice.  On  the  one  hand  it  completely  represents  his  own  deep 
feeling  at.  the  time,  and  in  impassioned  earnestness,  force  of  ex- 
pression, and  power  of  narrative,  is  perhaps  equal  to  any  thing  he 
ever  wrote  ;  on  the  other  hand  it  contains  the  most  startling  and 
vehement,  because  the  most  personal,  language  which  he  ever 
allowed  himself  deliberately  to  use.  The  offence  caused  by  it, 
even  amongst  his  friends,  was  very  great ;  and  whatever  feeling, 
political  or  theological,  existed  against  him  was  for  the  time  con- 
siderably aggravated  by  it,  It  was  his  only  published  notice  of  the 
Oxford  School  between  his  third  and  fourth  volumes  of  Sermons  ; 
but,  though  he  never  again  expressed  himself  with  equal  vehe- 
mence, these  proceedings  at  Oxford  left  an  impression  upon  his 
mind  which  he  never  entirely  lost,  and  which  showed  itself  long 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


26.J 


afterwards  in  the  stronger  language  of  moral  condemnation,  which 
he  used  in  speaking  of  the  views  in  question. 

II.  The  office  of  a  Fellowship  in  the  Senate  of  the  new 
London  University,  was  offered  to  him  by  Mr.  Spring  Rice, 
then  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  in  September  1835  ;  and  he 
resolved  to  accept  it  with  the  same  views,  with  which  he  had 
some  years  before  thought  of  becoming  a  Professor  in  the  older 
institution  of  the  same  name,  in  the  hope  of  giving  a  religious 
influence  to  its  proceedings,  and  of  realizing  the  visions  which 
he  had  long  fondly  entertained,  of  a  great  institution  of  national 
education,  which  should  (to  use  his  own  words)  be  Christian, 
yet  not  sectarian.  He  at  first  consented  to  "join  it,  without  in- 
sisting on  a  Scriptural  Examination ;  on  the  alleged  ground  of 
fact,  that  such  an  examination  was  not  practicable  on  account 
of  the  objections  of  different  classes  of  Christians ;  and  on  the 
hope,  which  he  distinctly  expressed,  that  the  Christian  charac- 
ter of  the  University  might  be  secured  without  it."  But  "  when," 
he  adds,  "on  coming  to  think  and  talk  more  on  the  subject,  I 
was  more  and  more  convinced  that  the  Scriptural  examination 
was  both  practicable  and  all  but  indispensable" — "  when  Whate- 
ly  assured  me  of  its  proved  practicability  in  Ireland — when 
Yates,  the  Unitarian,  to  whom  I  wrote  on  the  subject,  agreed 
with  me  also, — and  when  I  found  that  there  was  a  very  great 
necessity  for  avowing  the  Christian  principle  strongly,  because 
Unbelief  was  evidently  making  a  cat's  paw  of  Dissent,"  he 
gave  notice  of  his  intention  of  recommending  the  introduction 
of  the  Scriptures  as  a  part  of  the  classical  examinations  for 
every  degree. 

The  suggestion  of  his  views  was,  even  to  those  of  his  col- 
leagues who  were  most  disposed  to  co-operate  with  him,  more 
or  less  unexpected ;  whilst  the  majority  of  the  Senate  was 
either  hostile  or  indifferent  to  them.  But  he  pressed  them  with 
all  his  natural  eagerness  and  earnestness  : — •"  I  do  not  under- 
stand,''' was  his  characteristic  answer  to  the  argument,  that, 
though  the  measure  was  in  itself  right,  the  times  would  not 
bear  it — "  I  do  not  understand  how  the  times  can  help  bearing 
what  an  honest  man  has  the  resolution  to  do.  They  may  hin- 
der his  views  from  gaining  full  success,  but  they  cannot  destroy 
the  moral  force  of  his  protest  against  them,  and  at  any  rate 
they  cannot  make  him  do  their  work  without  his  own  co-ope- 
ration." Accordingly,  though  debarred  by  his  occupations  at 
Rugby  from  making  more  than  two  or  three  short  visits  to  Lon- 
don, and  from  communicating  with  his  colleagues  except  by  letter, 
and  in  spite  of  the  want,  of  which  he  was  now  painfully  conscious, 
of  the  art  of  managing  bodies  of  men,  with  whom  he  was  not  ac- 
quainted, he  so  far  succeeded  as,  on  December  2,  1837,  to  carry  a 
resolution,  "  That,  as  a  general  rule,  the  candidates  for  the  Degree 
of  Bachelor  of  Arts  shall  pass  an  examination  either  in  one  of  the 
four  Gospels,  or  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  in  the  original  Greek,  and 


264  LIFE   0P   DR-  ARNOLD. 

also  in  Scripture  History."  This  measure  roused  great  objections, 
chiefly  on  the  ground  that  it  was  supposed  to  infringe  on  the 
original  principle  of  the  Charter  ;  which,  whilst  it  spoke  of  intend- 
ing the  University  to  promote  "religion,"  spoke  also  of  its  compre- 
hension of  all  denominations.  Partly,  in  consequence  of  remon- 
strances from  various  bodies  of  Dissenters,  and  from  the  Council  of 
University  College — partly,  on  the  strong  representation  of  the 
Secretary  of  State,  through  whom  an  appeal  had  been  made  by  the 
remonstrants  to  the  Law  Officers  of  the  Crown — a  larger  meeting 
was  summoned  on  February  7th,  1838,  in  which  the  former  motion 
was  overruled,  and  in  its  place  it  was  resolved,  "  That  examination 
in  the  Hebrew  text  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  in  the  Greek  text  of 
the  New,  and  in  Scripture  History,  shall  be  instituted  in  this  Uni- 
versity ;  to  be  followed  by  certificates  of  proficiency  ;  and  that  all 
candidates  for  Degrees  in  Arts  may,  if  they  think  proper,  undergo 
such  examination." 

Although  feeling  that  the  principle  for  which  he  contended  had 
been  abandoned,  he  was  unwilling  for  a  time  to  leave  the  Senate ; 
partly  from  reluctance  to  take  a  step  as  a  private  individual,  which 
might  seem  like  a  censure  of  those  bishops  who  still  felt  it  their 
duty  to  remain  on  the  Board  ;  but  chiefly  with  a  hope  of  rendering 
this  Scriptural  Examination  as  efficient  as  possible,  and  of  making 
it  evident  that  the  Degree  in  Arts  was  considered  incomplete  with- 
out it.  Failing  in  this,  partly  from  the  want  of  co-operation  in  the 
members  of  King's  College,  and  other  institutions  subordinate  to 
the  London  University,  partly  from  the  active  opposition  in  the 
Board  itself,  which  succeeded  in  disuniting  the  Scriptural- Examin- 
ation altogether  from  the  Degree,  he  finally  withdrew  from  the 
Senate  in  November,  183S. 

The  only  permanent  result  of  his  efforts  was  the  establishment 
of  the  voluntary  Scriptural  Examination.  But  the  whole  contest, 
which  is  so  fully  described  in  the  ensuing  letters  as  not  to  need 
further  comments  here,  was  one  of  the  most  characteristic  passages 
of  his  life.  It  was  the  only  occasion  on  which  he  was  brought  into 
direct  collision  with  the  extreme  section  of  the  Liberal  party  ;  and 
with  the  tendency  to  keep  the  principles  of  the  Christian  Religion 
distinct  from  national  literature  and  education,  which  he  had  long 
regarded  .as  a  great  and  growing  evil  in  English  society,  Nor  was 
it  the  less  interesting  at  this  time  from  its  connexion  with  his  long- 
er contest  with  the  Oxford  School,  as  showing  how  his  antipathy 
to  one  extreme  had  only  made  his  antipathy  to  its  opposite  more 
intense  ;  how  strongly  he  felt  his  isolation  from  both  parties,  when 
he  was  almost  equally  condemned,  in  London  as  a  bigot,  and  in 
Oxford  as  a  latitudinarian.  On  either  side  his  public  and  private 
experience  converged  into  the  deep  feeling  expressed  in  one  of  his 
letters  : — "  When  I  look  round  upon  boys  or  men,  there  seems  to 
me  some  one  point  or  quality,  which  distinguishes  really  noble  per- 
sons from  ordinary  ones ;  it  is  not  religious  feeling — it  is  not 
honesty  or  kindness  ; — but  it  seems  to  me  to  be  moral  thoughtful- 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


265 


ness  ;  which  is  at  once  strengthening  and  softening  and  elevating  ; 
which  makes  a  man  love  Christ  instead  of  being  a  fanatic,  and 
love  truth  without  being  cold  or  hard." 


CXVI.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE  COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  November  18,  1835. 

You  are  by  this  time,  I  suppose,  returned  to  London;  and  perhaps  you 
may  wonder  what  induces  me  to  write  to  you  again  so  soon.  My  reason  is, 
that,  if  I  find  that  you  have  time  to  do  it,  I  meditate  a  yet  farther  encroach- 
ment on  your  leisure,  on  a  matter  of  public  interest,  as  I  think,  as  well  as 
one  which  concerns  me  personally.  The  "  Idea"  of  my  life,  to  which  I  think 
every  thought  of  my  mind  more  or  less  tends,  is  the  perfecting  the  "  idea"  of 
the  Edward  the  Sixth  Reformers, — the  constructing  a  truly  national  and 
Christian  Church,  and  a  truly  national  and  Christian  system  of  education. 
The  more  immediate  question  now  is,  with  regard  to  the  latter.  The  Ad- 
dress of  the  House  of  Commons  about  the  London  University,  is  to  be  an- 
swered by  appointing  a  body  of  Examiners  by  Royal  Charter,  with  power  to 
confer  Degrees  in  Arts,  Law,  and  Medicine,  on  students  of  the  London 
University  and  of  King's  College,  and  of  such  other  places  of  education  as 
the  Crown  from  time  to  time  may  name.  I  have  accepted  the  office  of  one 
<sf  the  Examiners  in  Arts, — not  without  much  hesitation,  and  many  doubts  of 
the  success  of  the  plan, — but  desirous,  if  possible,  to  exercise  some  influence 
on  a  measure  which  seems  to  me  full  of  very  important  consequences  for 
good  or  for  evil.  Before  I  knew  any  thing  about  this,  I  had  written  a 
pamphlet  on  the  Admission  of  Dissenters  into  the  Universities  ;  not  meaning 
to  publish  it  directly,  if  at  all;  but  wishing  to  embody  my  view  of  the  whole 
question,  in  which,  of  course,  I  take  the  deepest  interest.  Now,  if  I  act  with 
this  new  Board,  I  am  more  disposed  to  publish  my  own  views  for  my  own 
justification,  lest  any  man  should  think  me  an  advocate  for  the  plan  of  Na- 
tional education  without  Christianity ;  which  I  utterly  abhor.  But  I  am 
well  nigh  driven  beside  myself,  when  I  think  that  to  this  monstrosity  we  are 
likely  to  come;  because  the  zealots  of  different  sects,  (including  in  this  term 
the  Establishment,  pace  Archiepiscopi  Cantuarensis,)  will  have  no  Chris- 
tianity without  Sectarianism. 

Now,  if  you  have  time  to  look  at  it,  I  should  like  to  send  you  up  my  MS. 
for  your  full  and  free  comments,  including  also  your  opinion  as  to  the  ex- 
pediency of  publication  or  no.  Tell  me  also,  particularly,  what  points  need 
fuller  development.  I  have  so  thought  over  the  whole  question,  and  believe 
that  I  see  my  way  in  it  so  clearly,  that  I  may  perhaps  state,  as  self-evident 
propositions,  things  which  to  others  may  be  startling.  Our  Church  now  has 
a  strict  bond  in  matters  of  opinion,  and  none  at  all  in  matters  of  practice  ; 
which  seems  to  me  a  double  error.  The  Apostles  began  with  the  most 
general  of  all  bonds  in  point  of  opinion — the  simple  confession  that  Jesus 
was  the  Son  of  God — not  that  they  meant  to  rest  there;  but  that,  if  you  or- 
ganize and  improve  the  Church  morally,  you  will  improve  its  tone  theoreti- 
cally ;  till  you  get  an  agreement  in  what  is  essential  Christian  principle,  and 
a  perfect  tolerance  of  differences  in  unessential  opinions.  But  now,  the  true 
and  grand  idea  of  a  Church,  that  is,  a  society  for  the  purpose  of  making 
men  like  Christ, — earth  like  heaven,— the  kingdoms  of  the  world  the  king- 
dom of  Christ, — is  all  lost ;  and  men  look  upon  it  as  "  an  institution  lor 
religious  instruction  and  religious  worship,"  thus  robbing  it  of  its  life  and 
universality,  making  it  an  affair  of  clergy,  not  of  people — of  preaching  and 
ceremonies,  not  of  living — of  Sundays  and  synagogues,  instead  of  one  of  all 
days  and  all  places,  houses,  streets,  towns,  and  country.     I  believe  that  the 

18 


266 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


Government  are  well  disposed,  and  I  wish  at  any  rate  to  try  them.  I  know 
at  least  what  I  mean  myself,  and  have  a  definite  object  before  me,  which,  if 
I  cannot  reach,  I  would  at  least  come  as  near  to  it  as  I  can. 


CXVII.      TO    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Rugby,  Norember  4,  1835. 

[After  stating  his  acceptance  of  the  office  in  the  London  University.]  I 
hold  myself  bound  to  influence,  so  far  as  I  may  be  able,  the  working  of  a 
great  experiment,  which  will  probably  in  the  end  affect  the  whole  education 
of  the  country.  I  hold  myself  bound  to  prevent,  so  far  as  in  me  lies,  the  es- 
tablishment of  more  sectarian  places  of  education,  which  will  be  the  case  if 
you  have  regular  colleges  for  Dissenters;  and  yet  Dissenters  must  and  ought 
to  have  Decrees  ;  and  you  shut  them  out  from  Oxford  and  Cambridge.  No 
man  can  feel  more  strongly  than  I  do  the  necessary  imperfection  of  the  pro- 
posed system,  and  its  certain  inferiority  to  what  the  old  Universities  might 
be  made  or  even  to  what  they  are,  I  suppose,  actually.  No  man  can  more 
dread  the  co-operators  with  whom  I  may  possibly  have  to  work,  or  the  prin- 
ciple which  an  active  party  are  endeavouring  to  carry  into  education,  that  it 
shall  or  can  exist  independent  of  Christianity.  But  the  excuse  of  these  men. 
and  their  probable  success,  arises  out  of  the  Oxford  sectarianism.  You  have 
identified  Christianity  with  the  Church  of  England,  and — as  there  are  many 
who  will  not  bear  the  latter, — indifferent  men,  or  unbelievers,  believe  that  it 
must  follow  that  they  cannot  be  taught  the  former.  The  cpuestion  goes 
through  the  whole  frame  of  our  society.  Nothing  more  reasonable  than  that 
national  education  should  be  in  accordance  with  the  national  religion  ; 
nothing  more  noble  or  more  wise  in  my  judgment  than  the  whole  theory  of 
the  Reformers  on  this  point.  But  the  Established  Church  is  only  the  reli- 
gion of  a  part  of  the  nation,  and  there  is  the  whole  difficulty.  The  Reform- 
ers or  rather  their  successors  in  Elizabeth's  time,  wished  to  root  out  Dissent 
by  the  strong  hand.  This  was  wicked,  as  I  think,  as  well  as  foolish :  but 
then  if  we  do  not  root  out  Dissent,  and  so  keep  the  Establishment  co-exten- 
sive with  the  nation,  we  must  extend  the  Establishment,  or  else  in  the  end 
there  will  and  ought  to  be  no  Establishment  at  all,  which  I  consider  as  one 
of  the  o-reatest  of  all  evils.  But  I  see  every  thing  tending  to  sectarianism  : 
and  I  heard  a  very  good  man  speaking  with  complacency  of  this  state  of 
things  in  America,  where  the  different  sects,  it  seems,  are  becoming  more 
and  more  separated  from  each  other.  And  this  is  a  natural  and  sure  conse- 
quence of  having  no  Establishment,  because  then  the  narrow-mindedness  of 
every  sect  plays  out  its  own  play,  and  there  is  no  great  external  reason  for 
union.  But  on  the  present  Oxford  system  or  spirit,  the  Establishment  is 
merely  identified  with  a  party,  and  makes  half  the  nation  regard  it  as  a 
nuisance.  I  believe  that  that  party  and  the  party  of  the  Dissenters  are  alike 
detestable,  alike  ignorant,  narrow-minded,  and  unchristian  ;  only  the  Church 
party  are  the  least  excusable,  because  they  sin  against  far  greater  oppor- 
tunities and  means  of  light.  My  own  firm  beliefis,  that  every  difference  of 
opinion  amongst  Christians  is  either  remediable  by  time  and  mutual  fairness, 
or  else  is  indifferent:  and  this,  I  believe,  would  be  greatly  furthered,  if  we 
would  get  rid  entirely  of  the  false  traditional  standard  of  interpretation,  and 
interpret  Scripture  solely  by  itself.  I  think  that  in  your  Sermon  on  Unau- 
thoritative Tradition,  you  have  unawares  served  the  cause  of  error  and 
schism :  for  I  should  just  reverse  that  argument,  and, — instead  of  saying 
that  we  should  bring  in  tradition  to  teach  certain  doctrines,  which  Scripture 
appears  to  recognize,  but  does  not  clearly  develope, — I  should  say,  that,  be- 
cause Scripture  does  not  clearly  develope  them,  therefore  they  ought  not  to 
be  taught  as  essential,  nor  with  any  greater  degree  of  precision  than  is  to  be 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


267 


found  in  Scripture :  and  then  I  believe  that  we  should  have  Christian  truth 
exactly  in  its  own  proper  proportions ; — what  is  plain,  and  what  is  essential, 
being  in  effect  convertible  terms  ; — whereas,  I  am  satisfied,  that  Church  au- 
thority, whether  early  or  late,  is  as  rotten  a  staff  as  ever  was  Pharaoh  king 
of  Egypt's, — it  will  go  into  a  man's  hand  to  pierce  him. 


CXVIII.       TO    REV.    F.    C.    BLACKSTONE. 

Rugby,  November  11,  1633. 

My  attention  has  been  drawn  lately,  by  one  or  two  cir- 
cumstances, to  the  spread  of  Henry  Drummond's  party,  who  claim  to  possess 
a  renewal  of  the  spiritual  gifts  of  the  Apostolic  age,  and,  as  a  consequence, 
call  themselves  the  only  true  Church.  I  should  like  to  know  whether  you 
have  lately  heard  any  more  of  the  question,  or  have  seen  any  reason  to 
alter  your  views  about  it.  The  intolerance  of  their  presumption  in  calling 
themselves  the  only  true  Church,  would,  to  my  mind,  go  very  near  to  decide 
against  them  ;  but  in  all  respects  they  seem  to  me  to  resemble  those  fanatical 
sects,  which  have  from  time  to  time  arisen,  and  will  do  so  to  the  end  of  the 
world.  But  with  regard  to  the  cessation  of  the  miraculous  powers  in  the 
Church,  which  I  think  at  first  sight  is  startling,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  it 
is  truly  accounted  for  by  the  supposition  that  none  but  the  Apostles  ever  con- 
ferred these  gifts,  and  that  therefore  they  ceased  of  course  after  one  genera- 
tion. I  do  not  think  that  the  state  of  the  Apostolical  Churches  was  so  pure, 
or  that  of  the  Churches  in  the  next  century  so  degenerate,  as  to  account  for 
the  withdrawal  of  the  gifts  as  a  sign  of  God's  displeasure,  seeing  that  the 
graces  of  the  Spirit  were  then  and  ever  have  been  vouchsafed  abundantly, 
— which  is  inconsistent  with  the  notion  of  God's  abandonment.  Nor  do  I 
see  that  the  Church  of  Christ  has  at  any  time  plainly  apostatized,  although 
it  has  been  greatly  unworthy  of  its  privileges  ;  nor  that  the  doctrine  of  Christ 
crucified  and  Christ  risen,  has  been  so  forsaken,  as  that  the  very  standard  of 
Christianity  should  need  to  be  planted  afresh.  But,  if  so,  then  the  parallel 
with  the  Jewish  Church  fails  :  for  the  final  guilt  of  the  Jewish  Church  con- 
sisted in  refusing  to  admit  of  the  full  development  of  its  system,  as  wrouo-ht 
in  Christ ;  and  therefore,  without  apostatizing  from  the  old,  they  fell  because 
they  refused  the  new.  But  ours  being  the  dispensation  of  the  fulness  of 
times,  a  new  system  is  with  us  not  to  be  looked  for  ;  and,  if  we  hold  fast  the 
principles  of  the  Gospel,  we  have  no  other  object  to  look  to  than  that  great 
one,  which  indeed  has  been  enough  neglected, — the  working  out  and  carry- 
ing into  all  earthly  institutions  the  practical  fruits  of  these  principles.  I 
have  often  thought  that  the  Quakers  stand  nobly  distinguished  from  the 
multitude  of  fanatics,  by  seizing  the  true  point  of  Christian  advancement, — 
the  development  of  the  principles  of  the  Gospel  in  the  moral  improvement 
of  mankind.  It  is  a  grievous  pity  that  some  foolishnesses  should  have  so 
marred  their  efficiency,  or  their  efforts  against  wars  and  oaths  would  surely 
ere  this  have  been  more  successful. 


CXIX.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  December  16,  1835. 

It  is  ill  answering  your  long  and  kind  letter  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock 
at  night,  when  I  am  liable  to  be  interrupted  every  moment  by  calls  from  my 
boys  who  are  going  home,  and  when  I  am  going  myself  to  start  with  a  pa- 
triarchial  party  of  seventeen  souls  at  seven  o'clock  to-morrow  for  Westmore- 
land. I  think  that  there  runs  through  your  letter,  perhaps  unconsciously,  a 
constant  assumption  that  the  Conservative  party  is  the  orthodox  one  ;  a  very 


266 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


Government  are  well  disposed,  and  I  wish  at  any  rate  to  try  them.  I  knew 
at  least  what  I  mean  myself,  and  have  a  definite  object  before  me,  which,  if 
I  cannot  reach,  I  would  at  least  come  as  near  to  it  as  I  can. 


CXVII.       TO    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Rugby,  Norember  4,  1835. 

[After  stating  his  acceptance  of  the  office  in  the  London  University.]  I 
hold  myself  bound  to  influence,  so  far  as  I  may  be  able,  the  working  of  a 
o-reat  experiment,  which  will  probably  in  the  end  affect  the  whole  education 
of  the  country.  I  hold  myself  bound  to  prevent,  so  far  as  in  me  lies,  the  es- 
tablishment  of  more  sectarian  places  of  education,  which  will  be  the  case  if 
you  have  regular  colleges  for  Dissenters  ;  and  yet  Dissenters  must  and  ought 
to  have  Degrees  ;  and^'ou  shut  them  out  from  Oxford  and  Cambridge.  No 
man  can  feel  more  strongly  than  I  do  the  necessary  imperfection  of  the  pro- 
posed system,  and  its  certain  inferiority  to  what  the  old  Universities  might 
be  made  or  even  to  what  they  are,  I  suppose,  actually.  No  man  can  more 
dread  the  co-operators  with  whom  I  may  possibly  have  to  work,  or  the  prin- 
ciple which  an  active  party  are  endeavouring  to  carry  into  education,  that  it 
shall  or  can  exist  independent  of  Christianity.  But  the  excuse  of  these  men, 
and  their  probable  success,  arises  out  of  the  Oxford  sectarianism.  You  have 
identified  Christianity  with  the  Church  of  England,  and — as  there  are  many 
who  will  not  bear  the  latter, — indifferent  men,  or  unbelievers,  believe  that  it 
must  follow  that  they  cannot  be  taught  the  former.  The  question  goes 
through  the  whole  frame  of  our  society.  Nothing  more  reasonable  than  that 
national  education  should  be  in  accordance  with  the  national  religion  ; 
nothino-  more  noble  or  more  wise  in  my  judgment  than  the  whole  theory  of 
the  Reformers  on  this  point.  But  the  Established  Church  is  only  the  reli- 
gion of  a  part  of  the  nation,  and  there  is  the  whole  difficulty.  The  Reform- 
ers or  rather  their  successors  in  Elizabeth's  time,  wished  to  root  out  Dissent 
by  the  strong  hand.  This  was  wicked,  as  I  think,  as  well  as  foolish :  but 
then  if  we  do  not  root  out  Dissent,  and  so  keep  the  Establishment  co-exten- 
sive with  the  nation,  we  must  extend  the  Establishment,  or  else  in  the  end 
there  will  and  ought  to  be  no  Establishment  at  all,  which  I  consider  as  one 
of  the  Greatest  of  all  evils.  But  I  see  every  thing  tending  to  sectarianism  : 
and  I  heard  a  very  good  man  speaking  with  complacency  of  this  state  of 
things  in  America,  where  the  different  sects,  it  seems,  are  becoming  more 
and  more  separated  from  each  other.  And  this  is  a  natural  and  sure  conse- 
quence of  having  no  Establishment,  because  then  the  narrow-mindedness  of 
every  sect  plays  out  its  own  play,  and  there  is  no  great  external  reason  for 
union.  But  on  the  present  Oxford  system  or  spirit,  the  Establishment  is 
merely  identified  with  a  party,  and  makes  half  the  nation  regard  it  as  a 
nuisance.  I  believe  that  that  party  and  the  party  of  the  Dissenters  are  alike 
-detestable,  alike  ignorant,  narrow-minded,  and  unchristian  ;  only  the  Church 
party  are  the  least  excusable,  because  they  sin  against  far  greater  oppor- 
tunities and  means  of  light.  My  own  firm  belief  is,  that  every  difference  of 
opinion  amongst  Christians  is  either  remediable  by  time  and  mutual  fairness, 
or  else  is  indifferent:  and  this,  I  believe,  would  be  greatly  furthered,  if  we 
would  o-et  rid  entirely  of  the  false  traditional  standard  of  interpretation,  and 
interpret  Scripture  solely  by  itself.  I  think  that  in  your  Sermon  on  Unau- 
thoritative Tradition,  you  have  unawares  served  the  cause  of  error  and 
schism :  for  I  should  just  reverse  that  argument,  and, — instead  of  saying 
that  we  should  bring  in  tradition  to  teach  certain  doctrines,  which  Scripture 
appears  to  recognize,  but  does  not  clearly  develope, — I  should  say,  that,  be- 
cause Scripture  does  not  clearly  develope  them,  therefore  they  ought  not  to 
be  taught  as  essential,  nor  with  any  greater  degree  of  precision  than  is  to  be 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  267 

found  in  Scripture  :  and  then  I  believe  that  we  should  have  Christian  truth 
exactly  in  its  own  proper  proportions ; — what  is  plain,  and  what  is  essential, 
being  in  effect  convertible  terms  ; — whereas,  I  am  satisfied,  that  Church  au- 
thority, whether  early  or  late,  is  as  rotten  a  staff  as  ever  was  Pharaoh  king 
oi^  Egypt's, — it  will  go  into  a  man's  hand  to  pierce  him. 


CXVIII.       TO    REV.    F.    C.    BLACKSTONE. 

Rugby,  November  11,  1833. 

My  attention  has  been  drawn  lately,  by  one  or  two  cir- 
cumstances, to  the  spread  of  Henry  Drummond's  party,  who  claim  to  possess 
a  renewal  of  the  spiritual  gifts  of  the  Apostolic  age,  and,  as  a  consequence, 
call  themselves  the  only  true  Church.  I  should  like  to  know  whether  you 
have  lately  heard  any  more  of  the  question,  or  have  seen  any  reason  to 
alter  your  views  about  it.  The  intolerance  of  their  presumption  in  calling 
themselves  the  only  true  Church,  would,  to  my  mind,  go  very  near  to  decide 
against  them  ;  but  in  all  respects  they  seem  to  me  to  resemble  those  fanatical 
sects,  which  have  from  time  to  time  arisen,  and  will  do  so  to  the  end  of  the 
world.  But  with  regard  to  the  cessation  of  the  miraculous  powers  in  the 
Church,  which  I  think  at  first  sight  is  startling,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  it 
is  truly  accounted  for  by  the  supposition  that  none  but  the  Apostles  ever  con- 
ferred these  gifts,  and  that  therefore  they  ceased  of  course  after  one  genera- 
tion. I  do  not  think  that  the  state  of  the  Apostolical  Churches  was  so  pure, 
or  that  of  the  Churches  in  the  next  century  so  degenerate,  as  to  account  for 
the  withdrawal  of  the  gifts  as  a  sign  of  God's  displeasure,  seeing  that  the 
graces  of  the  Spirit  were  then  and  ever  have  been  vouchsafed  abundantly, 
— which  is  inconsistent  with  the  notion  of  God's  abandonment.  Nor  do  I 
see  that  the  Church  of  Christ  has  at  any  time  plainly  apostatized,  although 
it  has  been  greatly  unworthy  of  its  privileges ;  nor  that  the  doctrine  of  Christ 
crucified  and  Christ  risen,  has  been  so  forsaken,  as  that  the  very  standard  of 
Christianity  should  need  to  be  planted  afresh.  But,  if  so,  then  the  parallel 
with  the  Jewish  Church  fails :  for  the  final  guilt  of  the  Jewish  Church  con- 
sisted in  refusing  to  admit  of  the  lull  development  of  its  system,  as  wrought 
in  Christ ;  and  therefore,  without  apostatizing  from  the  old,  they  fell  because 
they  refused  the  new.  But  ours  being  the  dispensation  of  the  fulness  of 
times,  a  new  system  is  with  us  not  to  be  looked  for  ;  and,  if  we  hold  fast  the 
principles  of  the  Gospel,  we  have  no  other  object  to  look  to  than  that  great 
one,  which  indeed  has  been  enough  neglected, — the  working  out  and  carry- 
ing into  all  earthly  institutions  the  practical  fruits  of  these  principles.  I 
have  often  thought  that  the  Quakers  stand  nobly  distinguished  from  the 
multitude  of  fanatics,  by  seizing  the  true  point  of  Christian  advancement, — 
the  development  of  the  principles  of  the  Gospel  in  the  moral  improvement 
of  mankind.  It  is  a  grievous  pity  that  some  foolishnesses  should  have  so 
marred  their  efficiency,  or  their  efforts  against  wars  and  oaths  would  surely 
ere  this  have  been  more  successful. 


CXIX.       TO    MR.    JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  December  16,  1635. 

It  is  ill  answering  your  long  and  kind  letter  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock 
at  night,  when  I  am  liable  to  be  interrupted  every  moment  by  calls  from  my 
boys  who  are  going  home,  and  when  I  am  going  myself  to  start  with  a  pa- 
triarchial  party  of  seventeen  souls  at  seven  o'clock  to-morrow  for  Westmore- 
land. I  think  that  there  runs  through  your  letter,  perhaps  unconsciously,  a 
constant  assumption  that  the  Conservative  party  is  the  orthodox  one  ;  a  very 


0(J3  LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

natural  assumption  in  the  friends  of  an  existing  system,  or,  as  I  think,  in  any 
one  who  has  not  satisfied  himself,  as  I  have,  that  Conservatism  is  always 
wrong ;  so  thoroughly  wrong  in  principle,  that,  even  when  the  particular  re- 
form proposed  may  be  by  no  means  the  best  possible,  yet  it  is  good  as  a  tri- 
umph over  Conservatism  ; — the  said  Conservatism  being  the  worst  extreme, 
according  to  both  of  Aristotle's  definitions,  first,  as  most  opposed  to  the  mean 
in  itself,  since  man  became  corrupt ;  and  secondly,  as  being  the  evil  that  we 
are  all  most  prone  to — I  myself  being  conservative  in  all  my  instincts,  and 
only  being  otherwise  by  an  effort  of  my  reason  or  principle,  as  one  over- 
comes all  one's  other  bad  propensities.  I  think  Conservatism  far  worse 
than  Toryism,  if  by  Toryism  be  meant  a  fondness  for  monarchical  or  even 
despotic  government ;  for  despotism  may  often  further  the  advance  of  a  na- 
tion, and  a  good  dictatorship  may  be  a  very  excellent  thing,  as  I  believe  of 
Louis  Philippe's  government  at  this  moment,  thinking  Guizot  to  be  a  great 
and  good  man  who  is  looking  steadily  forwards;  but  Conservatism  always 
looks  backwards,  and  therefore,  under  whatever  form  of  government,  I  think 
it  the  enemy  of  all  good.  And  if  you  ask  me  how  I  can  act  with  the  present 
Ministers,  with  many  of  whom  I  am  far  from  sympathizing;  I  answer,  that 
I  would  act  with  them  against  the  Conservatives  as  Cranmer  and  Ridley 
acted  with  Somerset  and  Northumberland  and  the  Russells  of  that  day,  not 
as  thinking  them  the  best  or  wisest  of  men,  but  as  men  who  were  helping 
forward  the  cause  of  Reform  against  Conservatism,  and  who  therefore 
were  serving  the  cause  of  their  country  and  of  mankind,  when  Fisher  and 
Moore  and  Tonstall,  better  men  individually,  would  have  grievously  injured 
both.  This  I  should  say,  even  if  I  judged  of  the  two  parties  as  you  do.  .  .  . 
But  I  am  running  on  unreasonably,  and  time  is  precious  ;  my  meaning  is, 
thai  had  I  been  a  Conservative,  I  am  quite  sure  that  no  act  of  mine  would 
have  ever  been  considered  as  going  out  of  my  way  into  politics  ;  but  on  the 
other  side,  "  defendit  numerus ;"  and  that  is  called  zeal  for  the  Church, 
which  in  me  is  called  political  violence.  We  are  all  well,  and  I  am  mar- 
vellously untired  by  our  five  weeks'  examination ;  but  still  I  expect  to  re- 
joice in  the  mountains. 


CXX.      TO    W.    EMPSON,    ESft. 

January  8,  1836. 

I  find  even  in  private  life,  and  amongst  men  of  the  Tory 

party  who  are  most  favourable  specimens  of  it,  a  tone  of  increased  viru- 
lence, interfering  even  with  private  relations,  which  really  seems  almost  like 
the  harbinger  of  civil  war.  In  London,  I  have  no  doubt,  all  this,  externally 
at  least,  is  softened ;  but  in  the  country,  where  men  live  more  apart,  their 
passions  seem  to  me  to  be  daily  exasperating,  and  any  interruption  of  the 
present  commercial  prosperity  would  find,  I  fear,  a  bitter  temper  already 
existing  to  receive  the  increased  embittering  of  private  distress.  My  fear  is, 
that  the  English  are  indifferent  to  justice  when  it  is  not  on  their  own  side, 
and  that  therefore  in  this  Irish  Church  question  the  Ministers  will  fare  as 
Lord  Chatham  did  in  the  beginning  of  the  American  war,  be  outvoted,  over- 
ruled, and  driven  from  power.  And  then  what  is  the  "  Avenir  "  which  any 
Tory  can  imagine  to  himself  within  the  very  limits  of  possibility  ?  For 
whether  Ireland  remain  in  its  present  barbarism,  or  grow  in  health  and  civil- 
ization, in  either  case  the  downfall  of  the  present  Establishment  is  certain  ; 
a  savage  people  will  not  endure  the  insult  of  a  hostile  religion,  a  civilized 
one  will  reasonably  insist  on  having  their  own. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


269 


CXXI.   TO  CHEVALIER  BUNSEN. 

Fox  How,  February  1,  1836. 

Let  me  thank  you  again  and  again  for  your  dedication 

of  the  Article  on  the  Sahine  cities,  for  it  roused  me  to  go  to  work  in  good 
earnest,  and  I  can  now  tell  you  that,  having  begun  with  iEneas,  I  have 
fairly  brought  down  the  history  to  the  institution  of  the  Tribuneship.  I  be- 
lieve I  have  never  written  without  thinking  of  you,  and  wishing  to  be  able 
to  ask  you  questions ;  you  must  expect,  therefore,  presently  to  have  a  string 
of  interrogatories,  after  I  have  first  told  you  the  plan  and  contents  of  what 

I  have  hitherto  done I  need  not  tell  you  how  entirely  I  have 

fed  upon  Niebuhr;  in  fact  I  have  done  little  more  than  put  his  first  volume 
into  a  shape  more  fit  for  general,  or  at  least  for  English  readers,  assuming 
his  conclusions  as  proved,  where  he  was  obliged  to  give  the  proof  in  detail. 
I  suppose  that  he  must  have  shared  so  much  of  human  infirmity  as  to  have 
fallen  sometimes  into  error  ;  but  I  confess  that  I  do  not  yet  know  a  single 
point  on  which  I  have  ventured  to  differ  from  him  ;  and  my  respect  for  him 
so  increases  the  more  I  study  him,  that  I  am  likely  to  grow  even  supersti- 
tious in  my  veneration,  and  to  be  afraid  of  expressing  my  dissent  even  if  I 

believe  him  to  be  wrong Though  I  deeply  feel  my  own 

want  of  knowledge,  yet  I  know  of  no  one  in  England  who  can  help  me ;  so 
little  are  we  on  a  level  with  you  in  Germany  in  our  attention  to  such  points. 
What  would  I  give  to  recover  the  History  of  Sisenna,  or  any  contemporary 
account  of  the  war  of  Marius  and  Sylla  !  Once  more,  is  any  thing  doing 
about  deciphering  the  Etruscan  or  Oscan  languages,  and  what  authority 
is  there  for  making  the  Oscan  and  Sabellian  tribes  distinct  ?  whereas  I  can- 
not but  think  they  all  belong  to  one  stock,  distinct  from  the  Latins  on  one 
hand,  and  from  the  Etruscans  on  the  other. 

I  will  now  release  you  from  the  Roman  History.  I  am  also  engaged 
upon  the  three  Pastoral  Epistles,  as  I  believe  I  told  you.  Do  not  all  the 
three  Epistles  appear  to  belong  to  a  period  in  Paul's  life  later  than  that 
recorded  in  the  Acts  ;  and  must  they  not  have  been  written  nearly  at  the 
same  time?  In  the  1st  Timothy,  ill.  15,  do  you  approve  of  Griesbach's  stop- 
ping of  the  passage,  when  he  joins  the  words  arvloq  y.ui  iSodioj/ia  rifc 
af.rjBhai;  with  the  following  verse  ?  I  cannot  well  make  up  my  mind,  whether 
to  agree  with  it  or  no ;  but  it  is  certain,  that  if  the  words  are  to  be  applied 
to  the  Church,  they  do  not  describe  what  it  is  de  facto,  but  what  it  ought  to 
be.  "  Take  care  that  no  error  through  thy  fault  creep  into  that  Church 
which  was  designed  by  God  to  be  nothing  but  a  pillar  and  basis  of  truth." 
Then  f/varijoiov  rrjs  ivotfiUas  may  fitly  be  translated,  I  suppose,  the  ''Reve- 
lation of  Christianity,  the  secret  which  Christianity  has  to  impart  to  its  own 
initiated."  The  uvat^gtov  r7j<;  hvotfitiat;  is  Christ,  as  the  fivoTtjoiov  i%  avoalaq 
is  Antichrist.  Here  again  I  must  stop,  though  I  have  much  more  to  say.  I 
look  forward  with  great  pleasure  to  your  son's  joining  us  in  June,  and  seeing 
this  delicious  country  with  us  in  July.  But  five  long  months  of  work  inter- 
vene between  this  present  time  and  our  summer  holidays.  May  Christ's 
Spirit  enable  me  to  turn  them  to  profit,  if  I  am  permitted  to  live  through 
them. 


CXXII.      TO    J.    C.    PLATT,    ESQ. 

Fox  How,  February  5, 1836. 

I  was  very  much  pleased  with  the  pamphlet  of  Dr.  Lie- 

ber  about  Education,  and  thought  him  the  more  worthy  of  having  had  so 
much  intercourse  with  Niebuhr.  I  entirely  agree  with  what  Dr.  Lieber 
says,  and  wish  that  people  were  more  aware  of  the  truth  of  it  in  England. 


270  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

We  are  going,  however,  to  have  a  very  important  experiment  begun  here, 
in  the  new  London  University ;  of  which,  as  you  may  have  perhaps  heard, 
I  am  likely,  if  the  present  Government  stands,  to  become  one  of  the  mem- 
bers. There  will  then  probably  be  brought  to  issue  this  great  question, 
whether  the  people  of  England  have  any  value  whatever  for  Christianity 
without  sectarianism  ;  for,  as  it  seems  to  me,  most  of  those  who  are  above 
sectarianism  are  quite  as  indifferent  to  Christianity ;  while  almost  all  who 
profess  to  value  Christianity  seem  when  they  are  brought  to  the  test  to  care 
only  for  their  own  sect.  Now  it  is  manifest  to  me  that  all  our  education 
must  be  Christian,  and  not  be  sectarian ;  I  would  ask  no  questions  as  to 
what  denomination  of  Christians  any  student  belonged;  or,  if  I  did,  I  should 
only  do  it  for  the  express  purpose  of  avoiding  in  my  examination  all  those 
particular  points  in  which  I  might  happen  to  differ  from  him.  But  I  should 
as  certainly  assume  him  to  be  a  Christian,  and  both  in  examining  him  in 
the  Scriptures,  as  well  as  in  the  philosophy  and  history  of  other  writers, 
I  should  proceed  on  the  supposition  that  his  views  of  life  were  Christian, 
and  should  think  it  quite  right  to  inquire  what  was  his  knowledge  of  the  evi- 
dences and  nature  of  the  Christian  scheme.  I  see  that  a  Jew  has  just  been 
elected  a  governor  of  Christ's  Hospital;  the  very  name  shows  the  monstrous- 
ness  of  this ;  but  what  shall  we  say  of  the  wisdom  of  those  who  say  that  a 
Roman  Catholic  or  an  Unitarian  is  as  bad  as  a  Jew,  and  who  thus  drive 
other  men  to  say  that,  as  some  pretended  religious  distinctions  are  no  real 
and  moral  distinctions,  so  all  religious  distinctions  are  unimportant ;  and 
Jew,  Mahometan,  Hindoo,  or  Benthamite  may  all  be  educated  together.  No 
doubt  they  may  be  taught  physical  science  together;  but  physical  science 
is  not  education  ;  and  how  they  can  be  instructed  in  moral  science  together, 
when  their  views  of  life  are  so  different,  is  a  thing  that  I  cannot  under- 
stand  I    am   satisfied   that  the   real  good  must  be  done 

through  something  in  the  form  of  a  Newspaper  or  Historical  Magazine. 
You  must  begin  with  teaching  people  to  understand,  if  you  can,  what  they 
will  feel  an  interest  in  and  talk  about ;  it  is  of  no  use  to  attempt  to  create  an 
interest  for  indifferent  things,  natural  history,  or  general  literature,  which 
every  sensible  man  feels  to  be  the  play  of  life  and  not  its  business.  I  hold 
with  Algernon  Sidney,  that  there  are  but  two  things  of  vital  importance, — 
those  which  he  calls  Religion  and  Politics,  but  which  I  would  rather  call 
our  duties  and  affections  towards  God,  and  our  duties  and  feelings  towards 
men ;  science  and  literature  are  but  a  poor  make  up  for  the  want  of  these. 

I  have  been  at  work  on  the  Roman  History  with  very  great  delight,  and 
also  with  a  part  of  the  New  Testament.  I  have  begun  the  Roman  History 
from  the  beginning,  and  I  could  not  have  any  work  which  I  should  more 
enjoy ;  if  I  live,  I  hope  to  carry  on  the  History  till  the  sixth  century,  and 
end  it  with  the  foundation  of  the  modern  kingdoms  out  of  the  wreck  of  the 
Western  Empire.  Pray  let  me  hear  of  you  when  you  can,  and  believe  me 
that  I  shall  always  feel  a  very  lively  interest  in  your  proceedings. 


CXXIII.      TO   MR.   JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  March  2,  1836. 

I  erred  in  sending  you  my  manuscript ;  not  that  I  do  not  heartily  thank 
you  for  your  comments,  which  as  to  the  good  of  the  work  itself  were  more 
useful  than  if  you  had  more  agreed  with  me  ;  but  I  would  not  for  the  sake 
of  an  hypothetical  publication  have  caused  you  to  dwell  on  page  after  page 
of  matter  in  which  you  could  hot  sympathize,  and  which  I  fear  grated 
harshly  upon  your  notions  and  tastes.  I  did  it  in  ignorance  ;  for  I  really 
fancied, — without  any  authority,  I  believe — but  still  I  fancied  that  you 
agreed  with  me  as  to  the  desirableness  of  opening  the  Universities,  and 
would  sympathize,  therefore,  in  the  general  drift  of  what  I  had  written. 
Otherwise  I  should  not  have  thought  it  fair  to  trouble  you  with  it. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


271 


But  the  whole  thing  makes  me  most  earnest  that  we  should  soon  meet, 
not  to  argue,  but  rather  to  feel  the  many  points  of  true  sympathy  between 
us,  and  to  get  our  notions  of  each  other  refreshed,  so  to  speak,  in  all  their 
totality.  You  get  from  me  two  or  three  letters  a  year ;  in  these  I  cannot 
represent  what  is  really  my  life's  business  and  state  of  mind,  for  school  affairs 
would  not  interest  you,  nor  will  the  quiet  scenes  of  mere  family  life  bear 
description.  I  therefore  write  naturally  of  public  matters,  of  questions  of 
general  interest;  and  I  write  upon  them  as  I  feel,  that  is,  decidedly  and 
deeply.  But  this  produces  a  false  impression  upon  your  mind,  as  if  these 
feelings  occupied  me  predominantly,  and  you  express  a  wish  that  I  would 
concentrate  my  energies  upon  the  school,  my  own  business.  Why  you 
cannot  surely  think  that  Hawtrey  or  your  brother  Edward  or  any  man  in 
England  does  so  more  than  I  do  1  I  should  feel  it  the  greatest  possible  re- 
proach, if  I  were  conscious  of  doing  otherwise.  But  although  a  school,  like 
a  parish  or  any  other  occupation  in  which  our  business  is  to  act  morally 
upon  our  neighbours,  affords  in  fact  infinite  employment,  and  no  man  can 
ever  say  that  he  has  done  all  that  he  might  do, — still  in  the  common  sense 
of  the  term,  I  can  truly  say,  that  I  live  for  the  school ;  that  very  pamphlet 
which  I  sent  you  was  written  almost  entirely  at  Fox  How,  and  my  own  em- 
ployment here  has  been  all  of  a  kind  to  bear  directly  upon  the  school  work ; 
first  Thucydides.  and  now  the  Roman  History,  and  subjects  more  or  less 
connected  with  the  Scriptures,  or  else  my  Sermons.  Undoubtedly,  I  do  not 
wish  my  mind  to  feel  less  or  to  think  less  upon  public  matters ;  ere  it  does 
so  its  powers  must  be  paralyzed  ;  and  I  am  sure  that  the  more  active  my 
own  mind  is,  and  the  more  it  works  upon  great  moral  and  political  points, 
the  better  for  the  school ;  not,  of  course,  for  the  folly  of  proselytizing  the 
boys,  but  because  education  is  a  dynamical,  not  a  mechanical  process,  and 
the  more  powerful  and  vigorous  the  mind  of  the  teacher,  the  more  clearly 
and  readily  he  can  grasp  things,  the  better  fitted  he  is  to  cultivate  the  mind 
of  another.  And  to  this  I  find  myself  coming  more  and  more  ;  I  care  less 
and  less  for  information,  more  and  more  for  the  pure  exercise  of  the  mind  ; 
for  answering  a  question  concisely  and  comprehensively,  for  showing  a  com- 
mand of  language,  a  delicacy  of  taste,  and  a  comprehensiveness  of  thought, 
and  power  of  combination. 

We  had  a  most  delightful  winter  at  Fox  How I  went  over 

to  Keswick  for  one  day,  and  called  on  Southey  and  saw  him  and  his  daugh- 
ters Kate  and  Bertha.  Southey  is  much  altered  from  his  heavy  domestic 
trial,  and  perhaps  from  his  constant  occupations.  He  reads  as  he  walks, 
which  I  told  him  I  would  not  venture  to  do,  though  so  much  younger  than 
he  was  ;  it  is  so  constant  a  strain,  that  I  do  not  wonder  that  his  hair  is  gray. 
....  What  a  great  man  your  uncle  was,  that  is,  intellectually  !  for  some- 
thing I  suppose  must  have  been  wanting  to  hinder  us  from  calling  him  a 
great  man  dnkw^.     But  where  has  he  left  his  equal  ? 


CXXIV.      *  TO    C.   J.   VAUGHAN,    ESQ. 

(On  his  success  at  Cambridge.) 

Eegby,  MarcJi  7,  5636. 

I  gave  myself  the  pleasure  of  writing  to  Mrs.  Vaughan  a  few  lines  on 
Friday  evening,  which  I  thought  you  would  prefer  to  my  writing  to  your- 
self. But  you  know  how  heartily  1  should  rejoice  at  your  success,  and  I 
thank  you  very  much  for  your  kind  letter  to  inform  me  of  it. 

I  am  truly  glad  indeed  and  thankful  that  you  have  done  so  well,  and  I 
thank  you  for  the  credit  which  you  have  conferred  upon  Rugby.  lam  very 
glad  that  you  are  coming  to  us  in  June,  a  time  when  I  hope  to  enjoy  your 
company  far  more  than  in  the  Babel  at  Easter.  It  will  be  a  great  pleasure 
to  me  to  have  some  conversation  with  you  again  after  the  lapse  of  a  year,  a 


•272  LIFE   0F    DR    ARNOLD. 

period  which  brings  such  changes  in  all  our  minds,  and,  till  our  faculties 
decay,  changes  surely  for  the  better,  unless  we  wilfully  let  the  ground  lie 
fallow,  or  plant  it  with  weeds.  And  it  is  to  me  a  matter  of  intense  interest 
to  observe  the  ripening  manhood  of  those  minds,  in  whose  earlier  opening  I 
felt  so  deep  and  affectionate  a  sympathy.  My  wife  and  all  the  children 
rejoice  in  your  success,  and  unite  in  kindest  regards. 


CXXV.      TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.      (b.) 

Rugby,  March  9,  1836. 

I  am  far  more  pleased  than  disappointed  about  the  scholarship ;  I  am  very 
much  pleased  that  both  you  and have  done  so  well.  I  am  not  disap- 
pointed, because  I  always  think  that  in  every  election  the  chances  must  be 

against  any  one  candidate.     I  wish  you  would  impress  this  on ,  from  me  ; 

for  I  am  a  little  afraid  that  Vaughan's  success  at  Cambridge  will  make  him 
over  anxious,  and  that  he  will  fancy  that  he  is  the  more  expected  to  get  it,  in 
order  to  complete  the  triumph  of  Rugby.  This  is  not  my  feeling,  and  I  can- 
not bear  that  he  should  be  oppressed  with  the  weight  of  our  unreasonable 
expectations  when  I  know  how  much  anxiety  he  has  of  his  own.  Come  to 
us  whenever  you  can,  and  find  it  most  convenient ;  we  shall  be  equally  glad 
to  see  you  at  any  time. 

And  now  for  your  Oxford  agitators.  If  I  were  really  as  anxious  to  make 
proselytes  as  some  fancy,  I  should  be  much  grieved  at  what  I  should  then 
call  your  defection ;  but  as  it  is  I  am  well  content  that  you  should  so  love 
Oxford  at  present,  as  to  feel  sympathy  even  for  her  extravagances ;  it  is  such 
a  symptom  as  I  hail  with  very  great  satisfaction,  and  I  exhibited  it  myself 
when  I  was  in  your  situation.  I  should  therefore  be  well  enough  inclined  to 
let  this  right  itself  by  and  by ;  only  in  such  turbulent  times  you  must  be 
aware  lest  you  are  tempted,  not  only  ovfup&siv  iol<;  oSwrid-roiq  d)J.a  zal  ov/t- 
piaily,  and  that  I  think  would  be  an  injustice.  I  think  also  that  the  habit  of 
making  a  man  an  offender  for  a  word  is  most  injurious  to  ourselves, — remem- 
ber the  calumnies  and  insinuations  against  Niebuhr.  Again,  no  man's  mind 
can  be  fairly  judged  of  by  such  a  specimen  as  Newman  has  given  of 
Hampden's.  He  has  in  several  places  omitted  sentences  in  his  quotations, 
which  give  exactly  the  soft  and  Christian  effect  to  what,  without  them,  sounds 

hard  and  cold Again,  it  will  never  do  to  judge  a  man,  not  for 

the  opinions  which  he  holds,  but  for  the  degree  of  condemnation  he  passes 
on  the  opposite  opinions,  o  (tfv  xa).tndivo»v  ntato%  atl  o  S'  ctviiltywv  avzS 
vnonrbq.  But  to  whom  are  they  n(r>Tot  and  vnoniall  Not  to  the  wise  and 
good,  but  to  the  unprincipled  or  fanatical  partisan,  who  knows  not  what  truth 
and  goodness  are.  Poor  Jeremy  Taylor  understood  well  this  intolerance  of 
toleration,  when  he  thought  it  necessary  to  append  to  his  Liberty  of  Prophe- 
sying a  long  argument  against  the  truth  of  the  Baptist  opinions,  because 
he  had  been 'earnestly  arguing  that,  although  untrue,  they  were  neither 
punishable  nor  damnable.  You  have  always  heard  me,  and  I  hope  I  shall 
always  be  heard,  to  insist  upon  the  Divinity  of  Christ  as  the  great  point  of 
Christianity;  but  it  is  because  I  think  that  the  Scholastic  Theology  has 
obscured  and  excited  a  prejudice  against  it,  that  I  am  rather  thankful  myself 
for  having  been  enabled  to  receive  Scripture  truth  in  spite  of  the  wrapping 
which  has  been  but  around  it,  than  I  can  condemn  those  who  throw  away 
the  wrapping,  and  cannot  conceive  that  beneath  a  shell  so  worthless  there 
can  lurk  so  divine  a  kernel.  Then  as  to  "  dangerousness."  There  is  an  im- 
mense danger  in  folly,  or  in  the  careless  tone  of  a  man  who  never  seemed 
in  earnest ;  or  in  the  trash  of  a  fanatic.  Hampden  is  a  good  man,  and  an 
able  one;  a  lover  of  truth  and  fairness;  and  I  should  think  that  the  whole- 
some air  of  such  a  man's  lectures  woidd  tend  to  freshen  men's  faith,  and 
assure  them  that  it  had  a  foundation  to  rest  upon,  when  the  infinite  dishonesty 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


273 


and  foolery  of  such  divinity,  as  I  remember  in  the  lecture  rooms  and  pulpits 
in  times  past,  would  be  enough  to  drive  a  man  of  sound  mind  into  any  ex- 
travagances of  unbelief.     .....     Hampden's  Bampton  Lectures  are  a 

great   work,  entirely  true   in   their  main  points,  and  I    think  most   useful 

But  it  is  merely  like  the  cry  of  Oxford  a  hundred  and 

twenty  years  ago,  when  the  lower  House  of  Convocation  condemned  Burnet's 
Exposition  of  the  Articles.  So  always  in  the  course  of  human  things,  the 
tail  labours  to  sting:  the  head. 


CXXVI.      TO    W.    W.    HULL,    ESQ.. 

Rugby,  March  17,  1836. 

The  question  about  Hampden  seems  to  me  simple.  If  he  has  preached 
or  published  heresy,  let  him  be  tried  by  the  proper  judge  or  judges,  either 
the  Bishop  or,  as  Hawkins  says,  the  Vice-Chancellor.  assisted  by  six  Doc- 
tors of  Divinity.  What  they  are  now  doing  is  merely  Lynch  law ;  and 
they  might  just  as  well  run  down  any  other  man  who  is  unpopular  with  the 
dominant  party  in  Oxford,  and  say  that  they  have  no  confidence  in  him,  and 
therefore  pass  a  privilegium  against  him  without  giving  him  any  trial.  It 
is  making  the  legislative  power  encroach  on  the  judicial  with  a  vengeance, 
and  therefore  I  would  go  up  to  vote  for  Pusey,  Newman,1  Vaughan  Thom- 
as, or  any  other  whom  I  deem  the  most  unfit  man  in  Oxford,  if  a  Tory 
ministry  had  appointed  them,  and  a  Whig  majority  in  Convocation  were' to 
press  for  a  similar  stigma  against  them  on  a  charge  which  has  never  been 
tried,  and  which  Convocation  is  not  competent  to  try.     I  will  add.  however, 

that  I  agree  for  the  most  part  with  Hampden's  views Hawkins 

has  stood  the  storm  nobly  by  Hampden's  side. 


CXXVII.      TO    THE    SAME. 

Rugby,  June  II,  1836. 

No  man  can  object  more  than  I  do  to  the  quoting  Scripture  language 
irreverently  or  lightly ;  but  I  see  no  impropriety  in  referring  to  Scripture 
examples,  whether  of  sets  of  men  or  of  individuals.  Hophni  and  Phinehas 
are  recorded  as  specimens  of  the  worst  class  of  ministers  of  an  established 
religion.  The  Judaizers  of  the  New  Testament  exhibit  in  the  germ  all  the 
evils  which  have  since  most  corrupted  the  Christian  Church.  I  cannot  but 
think  it  legitimate  and  right  to  refer  to  these  examples,  when  the  same  evils 
are  flaming  in  the  face  of  day  before  our  eyes.     I  do  not  say  or  think  that 

and are  bad  men.    I  do  not  think  that  John  Gerson  was  a  bad 

man  ;  yet  he  was  a  principal  party  in  the  foul  treachery  and  murder  com- 
mitted against  John  Huss  at  the  Council  of  Constance. 


CXXVIII.      TO    THE    REV.   J.    HEARN. 

(In  congratulation  on  his  appointment  to  a  living.) 

Rugby,  April  12,  1836. 

I  covet  rest  neither  for  my  friends  nor  yet  for  myself,  so 

long  as  we  are  able  to  work ;  but,  when  age  or  weakness  comes  on,  and 
hard  labour  becomes  an  unendurable  burthen,  then  the  necessity  of  work  is 
deeply  painful,  and  it  seems  to  me  to  imply  an  evil  state  of  society  wherever 

1  In  1.841,  he  expressed  his  intention  of  fulfilling  this  resolution,  had  a  condemnation 
of  Tract  90  been  proposed  to  Convocation. 


274  L1FE  0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

such  a  necessity  generally  exists.  One's  age  should  be  tranquil  as  one's 
childhood  should  be  playful:  hard  work,  at  either  extremity  of  human  ex- 
istence, seems  to  me  out  of  place  ;  the  morning  and  the  evening  should  be 
alike  cool  and  peaceful ;  at  midday  the  sun  may  burn,  and  men  may  labour 

under  it [After  speaking  of  the  Hampden  controversy.]     It 

is  a  curious  case,  and  is  completely,  to  my  mind,  a  repetition  of  the  scenes 
of  the  Reformation.  When  Peter  Martyr  went  down  as  Divinity  Professor 
to  Oxford  in  Edward  the  Sixth's  time,  he  was  received  by  the  Catholics 
with  precisely  the  same  outcry  with  which  Hampden  has  been  received  by 
the  High  Churchmen,  and  on  the  same  grounds.  I  think  that,  the  Evangel- 
icals have  in  some  instances  been  led  to  join  in  the  clamour  against  him, 
from  their  foolish  fondness  for  their  particular  phraseology,  and  from  their 
want  of  ability  to  recognize  the  real  features  of  any  movement  of  opinion. 

About  fifty  or  sixty  years  ago,  when  there  was  really  a  leaven  of  Socin- 
ianism  in  the  Church,  it  showed  itself  in  petitions  to  be  relieved  from  the 
Articles,  and  in  the  absence  of  a  strongly  marked  Christian  character  in  the 
writings  of  the  petitioning  party.  But  Hampden  is  doing  what  real  Chris- 
tian relbrmers  have  ever  done ;  what  the  Protestants  did  with  Catholicism, 
and  the  Apostles  with  Judaism.  He  upholds  the  Articles  as  true  in  sub- 
stance, he  maintains  their  usefulness,  and  the  truth  and  importance  of  their 
doctrines;  but  he  sees  that  the  time  is  come  when  their  phraseology  re- 
quires to  be  protested  against,  as  having,  in  fact,  obstructed  and  embarrassed 
the  reception  of  the  very  truths  which  they  intend  to  inculcate.  He  is 
engaged  in  that  same  battle  against  technical  theological  language,  to  which 
you  and  I  have,  I  believe,  an  equal  dislike ;  while  he  would  join  us 
thoroughly  in  condemning  the  errors  against  which  the  Articles  were  di- 
rected, and  holds  exactly  the  language  and  sentiments  which  Cranmer  and 
Ridley.  I  believe,  would  hold  if  they  were  alive  now. 


CXXIX.      TO    W.   W.    HULL,    ESQ.. 

Rugby,  April  27,  1836. 

Objections  to  my  statement  do  not  bring  us  to  the  point ; 

my  view  stands  on  four  legs,  and  I  think  meets  all  the  difficulties  of  the 
case.  If  you  say  otherwise,  I  want  to  see  another  view  that  shall  also  stand 
on  four  legs,  and  those  legs  good  ones.  I  think  the  Roman  Catholic  system 
has  the  legs  right  in  number,  the  system  is  consistent ;  but  it  is  based  on 
one  or  two  great  falsehoods.     The  English  High  Church  system,  I  think 

both  false  and  inconsistent But  I  turn  more  gladly  to  a  point 

in  which  I  think  we  heartily  agree.  I  want  to  petition  against  the  Jew  Bill, 
but  I  believe  I  must  petition  alone  ;  for  you  would  not  sign  my  preamble, 
nor  would  many  others  who  will  petition  doubtless  against  the  measure.  I 
want  to  take  my  stand  on  my  favourite  principle,  that  the  world  is  made  up 
of  Christians  and  non-Christians ;  with  all  the  former  we  should  be  one, 
with  none  of  the  latter.  I  would  thank  the  Parliament  for  having  done  away 
with  distinctions  between  Christians  and  Christians ;  I  would  pray  that 
distinctions  be  kept  up  between  Christians  and  non-Christians.  Then  I 
think  that  the  Jews  have  no  claim  whatever  of  political  right.  If  I  thought 
of  Roman  Catholicism  as  you  do,  I  would  petition  for  the  Repeal  of  the 
Union  to-morrow,  because  I  think  Ireland  ought  to  have  its  own  Church  es- 
tablished in  it ;  and,  if  I  thought  that  Church  antichristian,  I  should  object 
to  living  in  political  union  with  a  people  belonging  to  it.  But  the  Jews  are 
strangers  in  England,  and  have  no  more  claim  to  legislate  for  it,  than  a 
lodger  has  to  share  with  the  landlord  in  the  management  of  his  house.  If 
we  had  brought  them  here  by  violence,  and  then  kept  them  in  an  inferior 
condition,  they  would  have  just  cause  to  complain ;  though  even  then,  I 
think,  we  might  lawfully  deal  with  them  on  the  Liberia  system,  and  remove 


LIFE  OP  DR.  ARNOLD.  275 

them  to  a  land  where  they  might  live  by  themselves  independent;  for  Eng- 
land is  the  land  of  Englishmen,  not  of  Jews.  And  in  this  my  German 
friends  agree  with  me  as  fully  as  they  do  in  my  dislike  to  the  Protestant  Es- 
tablishment in  Ireland,  which  is  the  land  of  Irishmen  ;  and  from  which  we 
ought  to  go,  and  not  the  Irish,  if  our  consciences  clamour  against  living 
with  them  according  to  justice.  So  now  here  is  agreement  with  you  and 
disagreement. 


CXXX.      TO    THE    ARCHBISHOP    OF   DUBLIN. 

Rugby,  May  4,  1836. 

Your  opinion  of  the  Edinburgh  Review  gave  me,  as  you  may  believe, 
very  great  pleasure ;  but  I  did  not  think  that  it  would  be  worth  while  to 
print  it  in  a  separate  shape,  because  the  more  I  saw  of  the  temper  of  the 
Judaizers,  the  less  did  it  seem  likely  to  persuade  any  of  them  from  their  evil 
deeds  before  to-morrow's  Convocation ;  and  because  having  written  once 
agonistically,  I  wish  next  to  write  in  another  manner,  and  to  go  deeper  to 
work  with  the  root  of  error,  from  which  all  this  Judaizing  springs.  And 
here  I  feel  sadly  my  distance  from  all  who  might  advise  and  co-operate  in 
such  a  work.  I  want  to  get  out  a  series  of  "  Church  of  England  Tracts," 
which,  after  establishing  again  the  supreme  authority  of  Scripture  and 
reason,  against  Tradition,  Councils,  and  Fathers,  and  showing  that  reason 
is  not  rationalism,  should  then  take  two  lines,  the  one  negative,  the  other 
positive  ;  the  negative  one,  showing  that  the  pretended  unity,  which  has  al- 
ways been  the  idol  of  Judaizers,  is  worthless,  impracticable, — and  the  pur- 
suit of  it  has  split  Christ's  Church  into  a  thousand  sects,  and  will  keep  it  so 
split  for  ever :  the  other  positive,  showing  that  the  true  unity  is  most  precious, 
practicable,  and  has  in  fact  been  never  lost ;  that  at  all  times  and  in  all 
countries,  there  has  been  a  succession  of  men,  enjoying  the  blessings  and 
showing  forth  the  fruits  of  Christ's  Spirit ;  that  in  their  lives,  and  in  what  is 
truly  their  religion — i.  e.  in  their  prayers  and  hymns — there  has  been  a  won- 
derful unity ;  that  all  sects  have  had  amongst  them  the  marks  of  Christ's 
Catholic  Church,  in  the  graces  of  His  Spirit,  and  the  confession  of  His 
name  ;  for  which  purpose  it  might  be  useful  to  give,  side  by  side,  the  mar- 
tyrdoms, missionary  labours,  &c,  of  Catholics  and  Arians.  Romanists  and 
Protestants,  Churchmen  and  Dissenters.  Here  is  a  grand  field,  giving  room 
for  learning,  for  eloquence,  for  acuteness,  for  judgment,  and  for  a  true  love 
of  Christ,  in  those  who  took  part  in  it, — and  capable,  I  think,  of  doing  much 
good.     And  the  good  is  wanted  ;  because  it  is  plain  that  the  Judaizers  have 

infected  even  those  who  still  profess  to  disclaim  them I  shall 

talk  this  matter  over  with  Hawkins,  who  has  behaved  nobly  in  this  matter, 
but  who  still,  I  think,  contributed  to  their  mischief  by  his  unhappy  sermon 
on  Tradition.  I  am  well  satisfied  that  if  you  let  in  but  one  little  finger  of 
Tradition,  you  will  have  in  the  whole  monster — horns,  and  tail,  and  all.  I 
teach  my  children  the  Catechism  and  the  Creed,  not  for  any  tradition's  sake, 
but  because  the  Church  of  England  has  adopted  them.  Each  particular 
Church  is  an  authority  to  members  of  that  Church ;  but,  for  any  general 
tradition  having  authority  from  universality  or  antiquity,  I  do  not  believe 
that  there  is  any  such ;  and  what  are  called  such,  are,  I  think,  only  corrup- 
tions, more  or  less  ancient,  and  more  or  less  mischievous,  of  the  trne  Chris- 
tianity of  the  Scriptures. 

I  have  received  your  volume  of  Charges,  &c,  for  which  I  am  very  much 
obliged  to  you.  I  have  read  your  additional  remarks  on  the  Jew  Bill,  and 
grieve  that  there  should  be  so  much  difference  between  us.  In  my  Catholic 
Pamphlet,  or  rather  in  one  place  in  the  Postscript,  there  is  one  paragraph 
which  I  should  now  cancel, — that  which  applies  St.  Paul's  rule  about  hus- 
bands and  wives  of  different  religions,  to  men  of  different  religions  in  a  com- 
monwealth.     The  general  argument  of  the  Pamphlet  I  should  perfectly 


276  LIFE  0F   DR.   ARNOLD. 

maintain  now, — that  the  Irish  being  a  Catholic  people,  they  have  a  right  to 
perfect  independence,  or  to  a  perfectly  equal  union:  if  our  conscience  objects 
to  the  latter,  it  is  bound  to  concede  the  former.  But  for  the  Jews  I  see  no 
plea  of  justice  whatever;  they  are  voluntary  strangers  here,  and  have  no 
claim  to  become  citizens,  but  by  conforming  to  our  moral  law,  which  is  the 
Gospel.  Had  we  brought  them  here  as  captives,  I  should  think  that  we 
ought  to  take  them  back  again,  and  I  should  think  myself  bound  to  subscribe 
for  that  purpose.  I  would  give  the  Jews  the  honorary  citizenship  which 
was  so  often  given  by  the  Romans, — i.  e.  the  private  rights  of  citizens,  jus 
commercii  et  jus  connubii, — but  not  the  public  rights,  jus  suffragii  and  jus 
honorum.  But  then,  according  to  our  barbarian  feudal  notions,  the  jus 
commercii  involves  the  jus  suffragii ;  because  land,  forsooth,  is  to  be  repre- 
sented in  Parliament,  just  as  it  is  used  to  confer  jurisdiction.  Then,  again,  I 
cannot  but  think  that  you  over-estimate  the  difference  between  Christian  and 
Christian.  Every  member  of  Christ's  Catholic.  Church  is  one  with  whom  I 
may  lawfully  join  in  legislation,  and  whose  ministry  I  may  lawfully  use  as 
a  judge  or  a  magistrate  ;  but  a  Jew  or  heathen  I  cannot  apply  to  volun- 
tarily, but  only  obey  him  passively  if  he  has  the  rule  over  me.  A  Jew 
judge  ought  to  drive  all  Christians  from  pleading  before  him,  according  to 
St.  Paul,  1  Cor.  vi.  1. 


CXXXI.      TO    SIR    THOMAS    S.    PASLEY,    BART. 

Rugby,  May  11,  1836. 

I  have  been  waiting  week  after  week,  in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  tell 
you  something  about  the  new  University ;  but  I  begin  to  think  that  if  I  wait 
till  the  Government  plans  are  decided,  I  shall  not  write  to  you  at  all  before 
we  meet ;  and  I  would  rather  send  you  a  letter  with  nothing  in  it,  than  ap- 
pear indifferent  to  the  pleasure  of  keeping  up  some  communication  with 
you, — a  privilege  which,  1  can  truly  say,  I  value  more  and  more  after  every 
fresh  meeting  with  you.  I  meet  with  a  great  many  persons  in  the  course  of 
the  year,  and  with  many  whom  I  admire  and  like;  but  what  I  feel  daily 
more  and  more  to  need,  as  life  every  year  rises  more  and  more  before  me  in 
its  true  reality,  is  to  have  intercourse  with  those  who  take  life  in  earnest.  It 
is  very  painful  to  me  to  be  always  on  the  surface  of  things,  and  I  think  that 
literature,  science,  politics,  many  topics  of  far  greater  interest  than  mere 
gossip  or  talking  about  the  weather,  are  yet,  as  they  are  generally  talked 
about,  still  on  the  surface  ;  they  do  not  touch  the  real  depth  of  life.  It  is  not 
that  I  want  much  of  what  is  called  religious  conversation, — that,  I  believe,  is 
often  on  the  surface,  like  other  conversation ; — but  I  want  a  sign,  which  one 
catches  as  by  a  sort  of  masonry,  that  a  man  knows  what  he  is  about  in  life, — 
whither  tending,  and  in  what  cause  engaged ;  and  when  I  find  this,  it  seems 
to  open  my  heart  as  thoroughly,  and  with  as  fresh  a  sympathy,  as  when  I 
was  twenty  years  younger.  I  feel  this  in  talking  to  you,  and  in  writing  to 
you ;  and  I  feel  that  you  will  neither  laugh  at  me,  nor  be  offended  with  me 
for  saying  it 


TO    DR.    GREENHILL. 


Rugby,  May  9,  1836. 

At  last  I  hope  to  redeem  my  credit  with  you,  though  indeed  it  may  well 
be  almost  irretrievable.  I  must  go  back  over  our  hurried  meeting  of  Thurs- 
day last,  to  your  two  kind  letters,  and  the  report  which  they  give  of  your 
medical  studies,  in  which  I  rejoice  ;  as  in  every  thing  else, — and  even  more 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  277 

than  in  most  things  that  I  am  acquainted  with.  What  our  fathers  have 
done,  still  leaves  an  enormous  deal  for  us  to  do.  The  philosophy  of  medicine, 
I  imagine,  is  almost  at  zero :  our  practice  is  empirical,  and  seems  hardly 
more  than  a  course  of  guessing,  more  or  less  happy.  The  theory  of  life  itself 
lies  probably  beyond  our  knowledge  ;  so,  probably,  is  that  of  the  origin  of 
thought  and  perception.  We  talk  of  nerves,  and  we  perceive  their  connex- 
ion with  operations  of  the  mind;  but  we  cannot  understand  a  thinking  or  a 
seeing  or  a  hearing  nerve,  nor  do  electricity  or  galvanic  action  bring  us 
nearer  to  the  point.  But  coining  down  to  a  far  lower  point,  how  ignorant 
are  we  of  the  causes  of  disorder,  of  the  real  influence  of  air,  and  of  its  com- 
ponent parts  as  affecting  health,  of  infection,  and  of  that  strange  phenome- 
non of  diseases  incident  generally  to  the  human  frame,  but  for  the  most  part 
incident  once  only,  such  as  measles,  small  pox,  and  the  old  Athenian  plague, 
or  incident  only  after  a  certain  period,  as  the  vaccine  infection.  Here,  and  in 
a  thousand  other  points,  there  is  room  for  infinite  discoveries  ; — to  say  no- 
thing of  the  wonderful  phenomena  of  animal  magnetism,  which  only  English- 
men, with  their  accustomed  ignorance,  venture  to  laugh  at.  but  which  no 

one  yet  has  either  thoroughly  ascertained  or  explained 

If  one  might  wish  for  impossibilities,  I  might  then  wish  that  my  children 
might  be  well  versed  in  physical  science,  but  in  due  subordination  to  the 
fulness  and  freshness  of  their  knowledge  on  moral  subjects.  This,  however, 
I  believe  cannot  be,  and  physical  science,  if  studied  at  all,  seems  too  great 
to  be  studied  iv  naoioyw:  wherefore,  rather  than  have  it  the  principal 
thing  in  my  son's  mind,  I  would  gladly  have  him  think  that  the  sun  went 
round  the  earth,  and  that  the  stars  were  so  many  spangles  set  in  the 
bright  blue  firmament.  Surely  the  one  thing  needful  for  a  Christian  and  an 
Englishman  to  study  is  Christian  and  moral  and  political  philosophy,  and 
then  we  should  see  our  way  a  little  more  clearly  without  falling  into  Judaism, 
or  Toryism,  or  Jacobinism,  or  any  other  ism  whatever.  All  here  is  going 
on  comfortably,  with  much  actually  good,  and  much  in  promise ;  with  much 
also  to  make  one  anxious,  according  to  the  unavoidable  course  of  human 
things.  My  mind  expatiates  sometimes  upon  Fox  How,  when  I  see  the 
utter  dulness  of  the  country  about  Rugby,  which  certainly  is  beyond  the 
reach  of  railways  to  spoil.  On  Saturday  we  went,  a  party  of  twenty,  to 
Nuneham  Wood : — Mrs.  Arnold  and  myself,  with  eight  children,  and  twelve 
persons  besides. 


CXXX1II.      TO    THE    ARCHBISHOP    OF    DUBLIN. 

Rugby,  May  16,  1836. 

I  have  no  thought  of  writing  any  thing  about  the  Jew  Bill  or 

Church  Reform  at  present.  If  the  Jew  Bill  comes  forward,  I  shall  perhaps 
petition  against  it,  either  in  common  with  the  clergy  of  the  neighbourhood, 
whom  I  could  on  that  question  join,  though  not  probably  in  my  reasons  for 
opposing  it ;  or  else  singly,  to  state  my  own  views  as  a  Liberal  in  being  unfa- 
vourable to  any  measure  of  the  present  government.  Undoubtedly,  I  think 
that  up  to  1795  or  6,  or  whenever  the  elective  franchise  was  granted  to  the 
Catholics,  the  Protestants  were  de  facto  the  only  citizens  of  Ireland ;  and 
that  the  Catholic  claims  could  not  then  be  urged  on  the  same  ground  that 
they  are  now.  Till  that  time  one  must  have  appealed  to  a  higher  law,  and 
asked  by  what  right  the  Protestants  had  become  the  only  citizens  of  Ireland  ; 
it  was  then  a  question  of  the  jus  gentium,  now  it  is  merely  one  of  jus  civile. 
I  never  have  justified  the  practice  of  one  race  in  wresting  another's  country 
from  it ;  I  only  say  that  every  people  in  that  country  which  is  rightfully 
theirs,  may  establish  their  own  institutions  and  their  own  ideas ;  and  that 
no  stranger  has  any  title  whatever  to  become  a  member  of  that  nation,  un- 


278  LIFE    0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

less  he  adopts  their  institutions  and  ideas.  It  is  not  what  a  government  may 
impose  upon  its  subjects,  but  what  a  people  may  agree  upon  for  themselves ; 
and,  though  England  does  not  belong  to  the  king,  yet  it  belongs  to  the  Eng- 
lish ;  and  the  English  may  most  justly  say  that  they  will  admit  no  stranger 
to  be  one  of  their  society.  If  they  say  that  they  will  admit  him,  that  is,  if 
Parliament  pass  the  Jew  Bill,  I  do  not  at  all  dispute  their  right  as  English- 
men to  do  so,  and  as  an  Englishman  I  owe  obedience  to  their  decision  ;  but 
I  think  they  make  England  cease  to  be  the  ttoAk  of  a  Christian,  and  we,  like 
the  old  Christians,  shall  then  become  in  our  turn  nagoixoi.  Politically,  if  we 
are  the  minority,  I  see  no  injustice  in  this,  but  I  think  that  we  may  wonder  a 
little  at  those  of  the  majority,  who  are  Christians  ;  seeing  that  we  as  Eng- 
lishmen have  a  nearer  claim  to  English  citizenship  than  the  Jews  can  have ; 
and  Christians  being  the  majority,  ought,  I  think,  to  establish  their  own  ideas 
in  their  own  land. 

Meanwhile,  I  think  that  I  shall  fulfil  my  intention  of  publishing  the  three 
Pastoral  Epistles,  (Timothy  and  Titus,)  with  Notes  and  Dissertations.  I 
should  print  in  parallel  columns,  the  Greek  text,  as  correctly  as  I  could  give 
it ;  the  Latin  Vulgate  ;  and  the  English  authorized  version  corrected,  notic- 
ing every  correction  by  printing  it  in  a  smaller  type,  and  marking  with  obeli 
such  words  or  expressions  in  our  translation  as  I  think  require  amendment, 
but  which  I  cannot  amend  to  my  satisfaction.  The  Dissertations  would 
embrace  naturally  every  point  on  which  the  Oxford  Judaizers  have  set  up 
their  heresy;  the  priesthood,  sacraments,  apostolical  succession,  tradition, 
the  church, — and  above  all  would  contain  the  positive  opposite  to  all  their 
idolatries,  the  doctrine  of  the  Person  of  Christ ;  not  His  Church,  not  His 
sacraments,  not  His  teaching,  not  even  the  truths  about  Him,  nor  the  virtues 
which  He  most  enforces,  but  Himself;  that  only  object  which  bars  fana- 
ticism and  idolatry  on  the  one  hand,  and  gives  life  and  power  to  all  morality 
on  the  other.  And  this  is  what  St.  Paul  constantly  opposes  to  the  several 
idolatries  of  the  Judaizers,  see  Colossians  ii.  and  1  Timothy  iv.,  connecting 
with  it  the  last  verse  of  chapter  hi.,  which  has  been  so  strangely  severed 
from  its  context. 

I  never  yet.  in  my  life  made  any  application  for  preferment,  nor  have  I 
desired  it.  But  I  confess,  if  Hampden  is  to  be  made  a  Bishop,  I  wish  that 
they  would  put  me  in  his  place  at  Oxford.  I  should  be  a  very  great  loser 
in  point  of  income  by  the  change,  and,  till  lately,  I  have  never  fancied  that 
I  could  be  more  useful  any  where  else  than  at  Rugby.  But  I  think  under 
present  circumstances  that  I  could  do  more  good  at  Oxford.  I  could  not 
supply  your  place,  but  I  could  supply  it  better  than  it  is  supplied  now.  I 
could  have  a  large  body  of  very  promising  young  men  disposed  to  listen  to 
me  for  old  affection's  sake  ;  and  my  fondness  for  young  men's  society  would 
soon  bring  others  about  me  whom  I  might  influence.  I  should  be  of  weight 
from  my  classical  knowledge,  and  I  am  old  enough  now  to  set  down  many 
of  the  men  who  are  foremost  in  spreading  their  mischief,  and  to  give  some 
sanction  of  authority  to  those  who  think  as  I  do,  but  who  at  present  want  a 
man  to  lean  upon.  And,  though  the  Judaizers  hate  me,  I  believe,  worse 
than  they  hate  Hampden,  yet  they  could  not^get  up  the  same  clamour 
against  me,  for  the  bugbear  of  Apostolical  Succession  would  not  do,  and  it 

would  puzzle  even to  get  up  a  charge  of  Socinianism  against  me 

out  of  my  Sermons.  Furthermore,  my  spirit  of  pugnaciousness  would  re- 
joice in  fighting  out  the  battle  with  the  Judaizers,  as  it  were  in  a  saw-pit; 
and,  as  my  skin  is  tough,  my  wife's  tougher,  and  the  children's  toughest  of 
all,  I  am  satisfied  that  we  should  live  in  Oxford  amidst  any  quantity  of  abuse 
unhurt  in  health  or  spirits ;  and  I  should  expatiate  as  heretofore  in  Bagley 
Wood  and  on  Shotover.  Do  not  understand  this  as  implying  any  weariness 
with  Rugby ; — far  from  it ; — I  have  got  a  very  effective  position  here,  which 
I  would  only  quit  for  one  which  seems  even  more  effective ;  but  I  keep  one 
great  place  of  education  sound  and  free,  and  unavoidably  gain  an  influence 
with  many  young  men,  and  endeavour  to  make  them  see  that  they  ought  to 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  279 

think  on  and  understand  a  subject,  before  they  take  up  a  party  view  about 
it.  I  hunger  sometimes  tor  more  time  for  writing;  but  I  do  not  indulge,  the 
feeling;  and  on  the  other  hand,  I  think  my  love  of  tuition  rather  grows 
upon  me. 


CXXXIV.      TO    A.    P.    STANLEY,    ESa. 

Rugby,  May  24,  1836. 

Now  with  regard  to  the  Newmanites.     I  do  not  call  them  bad 

men,  nor  would  I  deny  their  many  good  qualities ; I  judge  of 

them  as  I  do  commonly  of  mixed  characters,  where  the  noble  and  the  base, 
the  good  and  the  bad,  are  strangely  mixed  up  together.  There  is  an  as- 
cending scale  from  the  grossest  personal  selfishness,  such  as  that  of  Ceesar 
or  Napoleon,  to  party  selfishness,  such  as  that  of  Sylla,  or  fanatical  selfish- 
ness, that  is,  the  idolatry  of  an  idea  or  a  principle,  such  as  that  of  Robes- 
pierre1 and  Dominic,  and  some  of  the  Covenanters.  In  all  these,  except 
perhaps  the  first,  we  feel  a  sympathy  more  or  less,  because  there  is  some- 
thing of  personal  self-devotion  and  sincerity ;  but  fanaticism  is  idolatry,  and 
it  has  the  moral  evil  of  idolatry  in  it ;  that  is,  a  fanatic  worships  something 
which  is  the  creature  of  his  own  devices,  and  thus  even  his  self-devotion  in 
support  of  it  is  only  an  apparent  self-sacrifice,  for  it  is  in  fact  making  the 
parts  of  his  nature  or  his  mind,  which  he  least  values,  offer  sacrifice  to  that 
which  he  most  values.  The  moral  fault,  as  it  appears  to  me,  is  in  the  idola- 
try,— the  setting  up  some  idea  which  is  most  kindred  to  our  own  minds,  and 
then  putting  it  in  the  place  of  Christ,  who  alone  cannot  be  made  an  idol, 
and  cannot  inspire  fanaticism,  because  He  combines  all  ideas  of  perfection,  ■ 
and  exhibits  them  in  their  just  harmony  and  combination.  Now  to  my  own 
mind,  by  its  natural  tendency, — that  is,  taking  my  mind  at  its  best, — truth 
and  justice  would  be  the  idols  that  I  should  follow;  and  they  would  be  idols, 
for  they  would  not  supply  all  the  food  that  the  mind  wants,  and,  whilst 
worshipping  them,  reverence  and  humility  and  tenderness  might  very  likely 
be  forgotten.  But  Christ  Himself  includes  at  once  truth  and  justice,  and  all 
these  other  qualities  too.  In  other  men  I  cannot  trace  exactly  the  origin  of 
the  idolatry,  except  by  accident  in  some  particular  cases.  But  it  is  clear  to 
me  that  Newman  and  his  party  are  idolaters  ;  they  put  Christ's  Church,  and 
Christ's  Sacraments,  and  Christ's  ministers,  in  the  place  of  Christ  Himself; 
and,  these  being  only  imperfect  ideas,  the  unreserved  worship  of  them  una- 
voidably tends  to  the  neglect  of  other  ideas  no  less  important ;  and  thence 
some  passion  or  other  loses  its  proper  and  intended  check,  and  the  moral 
evil  follows.  Thus  it  is  that  narrow-mindedness  tends  to  wickedness,  be- 
cause it  does  not  extend  its  watchfulness  to  every  part  of  our  moral  nature, 
for  then  it  would  not  be  narrow-mindedness :  and  this  neglect  fosters  the 
growth  of  evil  in  the  parts  that  are  so  neglected.  Thus  a  man  may  "  give 
all  his  goods  to  feed  the  poor,  and  yet  be  nothing  ;"  where  I  do  not  under- 
stand it  of  giving  out  of  mere  ostentation,  or  with  a  view  to  gain  influence, 
but  that  a  man  may  have  one  or  more  virtues,  such  as  are  according  to  his 
favourite  ideas,  in  very  great  perfection,  and  still  be  nothing ;  because  these 

'  Robespierre,  he  used  to  distinguish  from  Danton,  and  others  of  the  revolutionary 
leaders,  as  being  a  sincere  fanatic  in  the  cause  of  Republicanism.  "  The  life  and  char- 
acter of  Robespierre  has  to  me  a  most  important  lesson,"  he  said  once  to  a  former  pupil, 
with  the  emphasis  of  one  who  had  studied  it  for  his  own  profit  ;  "  it  shows  the  frightful 
consequences  of  making  every  thing  give  way  to  a  favourite  notion.  The  man  was  a 
just  man,  and  humane  naturally,  but  he  would  narrow  every  thing  to  meet  his  own 
views,  and  nothing  could  check  him  at  last.  It  is  a  most  solemn  warning  to  us  of  what 
fanaticism  may  lead  to  in  God's  world."  To  Dominic,  in  allusion  to  his  supposed  share 
in  the  Albigensian  crusade,  and  the  foundation  of  the  Inquisition,  he  used  to  apply  St. 
Paul's  words,  1  Cor.  iii.  15. 


280  LIFE  0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

ideas  are  his  idols,  and,  worshipping  them  Avith  all  his  heart,  there  is  a  por- 
tion of  his  heart,  more  or  less  considerable,  left  without  its  proper  object, 
guide,  and  nourishment,  and  so  this  portion  is  left  to  the  dominion  of  evil. 
Other  men,  and  these  the  mass  of  mankind,  go  wrong  either  from  having  no 
favourite  ideas  at  all,  and  living  wholly  at  random,  or  ngoq  tidovfjv—  or  else 
from  having  ideas  but  indistinctly,  and  paying  them  but  little  worship,  so 
that  here  too  the  common  world  about  them  gives  the  impression  to  their 
minds,  and  thus  they  are  evil.  But  the  best  men,  I  think,  are  those  who, 
worshipping  Christ  and  no  idol,  and  thus  having  got  hold  of  the  true  idea, 
yet  from  want  of  faith  cannot  always  realize  it,  and  so  have  parts  of  their 
lives  more  or  less  out  of  that  influence  which  should  keep  them  right,— -and 
thus  they  also  fall  into  evil— but  they  are  the  best,  because  they  have  set 
before  them  Christ  and  no  idol,  and  thus  have  nothing  to  cast  away,  but 
need  only  to  impress  themselves  with  their  ideas  more  constantly ;  "  they 
need  not  save  to  wash  the  feet,  and  are  then  clean  every  whit."  .... 
I  have  been  looking  through  the  Tracts,1  which  are  to  me  a  memorable 
proof  of  their  idolatry;  some  of  the  idols  are  better  than  others,  some  being 
indeed  as  very  a  "  Truncus  ficulnus,"  as  ever  the  most  degraded  supersti- 
tion worshipped ;  but  as  to  Christianity,  there  is  more  of  it  in  any  one  of 
Mrs.  Sherwood's  or  Mrs.  Cameron's,  or  indeed  of  any  of  the  Tract  Socie- 
ty's, than  in  all  the  two  Oxford  octavos.  And  these  men  would  exclude 
John  Bunyan,  and  Mrs.  Fry,  and  John  Howard,  from  Christ's  Church, 
while  they  exalt  the  Non-jurors  into  confessors,  and  Laud  into  a  martyr ! 


CXXXV.      TO    THE    EARL    HOW. 

(In  reply  to  letter  requesting  as  one  of  the  Trustees  of  Rugby  School,  that  Dr.  Arnold  would  declare 
if  he  was  the  author  of  the  article  on  Dr.  Hampden  in  the  Edinburgh  Review  attributed  to  him,  and 
stating  that  his  conduct  would  be  guided  by  Dr.  Arnold's  answer  )2 

Rugby,  June  22,  1836. 
MY    LORD, 

The  answer  which  your  lordship  has  asked  for,  I  have  given  several 
times  to  many  of  my  friends  ;  and  I  am  well  known  to  be  very  little  apt  to 
disavow  or  conceal  my  authorship  of  any  thing,  that  I  may  at  any  time  have 
written. 

Still,  as  I  conceive  your  lordship's  question  to  be  one  which  none  but  a 
personal  friend  has  the  slightest  right  to  put  to  me  or  to  any  man,  I  feel  it 
due  to  myself  to  decline  giving  any  answer  to  it. 


CXXXVI.      TO     THE     SAME. 

(In  reply  to  a  second  letter,  urging  compliance  with  his  request,  on  the  grounds  that  he  might  feel  con- 
strained by  official  duty  to  take  some  step  in  the  matter  in  case  the  report  were  true.) 

June  27,  1836. 
MY    LORD, 

I  am  extremely  sorry  that  you  should  have^considered  my  letter  as  un- 
courteous  ;  it  was  certainly  not  intended  to  be  so  ;  but  I  did  not  feel  that  I 

1  From  a  Letter  to  Dr.  Hawkins. — "  I  have  been  reading  the  Pusey  and  Newman 
Tracts,  with  no  small  astonishment  ;  they  surpass  all  my  expectations  in  point  of  extra- 
vagance, and  in  their  complete  opposition  to  the  Christianity  of  the  New  Testament. 
But  there  are  some  beautiful  things  in  Pusey's  Tracts  on  Baptism,  much  that  is  holy  and 
pure,  and  truly  Christian,  till,  like  Don  Quixote's  good  sense  in  ordinary  matters,  it  all 
gets  upset  by  some  outbreak  of  his  particular  superstition." 

*  This  correspondence  ended  in  a  resolution  of  censure  moved  at  the  Board  of  Trustees, 
which  would  probably  have  occasioned  Dr.  Arnold's  resignation,  but  which  was  lost. 
See  Letter  cxxxix. 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


281 


could  answer  your  lordship's  letter  at  greater  length  without  going  into 
greater  details  by  way  of  explanation  than  its  own  shortness  appeared  to 
me  to  warrant.  Your  lordship  addressed  me  in  a  tone  purely  formal  and 
official,  and  at  the  same  time  asked  a  question  which  the  common  usage  of 
society  regards  as  one  of  delicacy, — justified,  I  do  not  say,  only  by  personal 
friendship,  but  at  least  by  some  familiarity  of  acquaintance.  It  was  because 
no  such  ground  could  exist  in  the  present  case,  and  because  I  cannot  and 
do  not  acknowledge  your  right  officially,  as  a  trustee  of  Rugby  School,  to 
question  me  on  the  subject  of  my  real  or  supposed  writings  on  matters 
wholly  unconnected  with  the  school,  that  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  decline  answer- 
ing your  lordship's  question. 

It  is  very  painful  to  be  placed  in  a  situation  where  I  must  either  appear 
to  seek  concealment  wholly  foreign  to  my  wishes,  or  else  must  acknowledge 
a  right  which  I  owe  it,  not  only  to  myself,  but  to  the  master  of  every  en- 
dowed school  in  England,  absolutety  to  deny.  But  in  the  presnt  case,  I 
think  I  can  hardly  be  suspected  of  seeking  concealment.  I  have  spoken  on 
the  subject  of  the  article  in  the  Edinburgh  Review  freely  in  the  hearing  of 
many,  with  no  request  for  secrecy  on  their  part  expressed  or  implied.  Offi- 
cially, however,  I  cannot  return  an  answer — not  from  the  slightest  feeling  of 
disrespect  to  your  Lordship,  but  because  my  answering  would  allow  a  prin- 
ciple which  I  can  on  no  account  admit  to  be  just  or  reasonable. 


CXXX  VII.      TO    THE    SAME. 
(In  reply  to  a  letter  of  thanks  for  the  last.) 


June  30, 163G. 


MY    LORD, 

I  trust' that  you  will  not  think  me  intrusive,  if  I  trouble  you  once  again 
with  these  £ew  lines,  to  express  to  you  my  sincere  thanks  for  the  Ia,st  letter 
which  I  have  had  the  honour  of  receiving  from  you.  It  is  a  matter'of  sin- 
cere regret  to  me  that  any  part  of  my  conduct  should  fail  to  meet  your  lord- 
ship's approbation.  If  I  feel  it  the  less  on  the  present  subject  than  on  any 
other,  it  is  because  I  have  been  long  compelled  to  differ  from  many  of  my 
friends  whom  I  esteem  most  highly ;  and  I  fear,  considering  the  vehemence 
of  party  feeling  at  present,  to  incur  their  disapprobation  also.  In  such 
cases,  one  is  obliged  to  bear  the  pain  without  repining, — when  a  man  is 
thoroughly  convinced,  as  I  am,  that  the  opinions  which  he  holds,  and  the 
manner  in  which  he  upholds  them,  are  in  the  highest  degree  agreeable  to 
truth,  and  in  conformity  with  the  highest  principles  of  Christian  duty. 


CXXXVIII.      TO    HIS    SISTER    MRS.    BDCKLAND. 
# 

(After  a  visit  to  the  Isle  of  Wight.) 

Fox  How,  July  23,  1836. 

»  •  •  .  .  .  I  certainly  was  agreeably  surprised  rather  than  disap- 
pointed by  all  the  scenery.  I  admired  the  interior  of  the  island,  which  peo- 
ple affect  to  sneer  at,  but  which  I  think  is  very  superior  to  most  of  the  scene- 
ry of  common  countries.  As  for  the  Sandrock  Hotel,  it  was  most  beautiful, 
and  Bonchurch  is  the  most  beautiful  thing  I  ever  saw  on  the  sea  coast  on 
this  side  of  Genoa.  Slatwoods  was  deeply  interesting ;  I  thought  of  what 
Fox  How  might  be  to  my  children  forty  years  hence,  and  of  the  growth  of 
the  trees  in  that  interval ;  but  Fox  How  cannot  be  to  them  what  Slatwoods 
is  to  me, — the  only  home  of  my  childhood,— : while  with  them  Laleham  and 
Rugby  will  divide  their  affections.     I  had  also  a  great  interest  in  going 

19 


282  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

over  the  College  at  Winchester,  but  I  certainly  did  not  desire  to  change 
houses  with  Moberly ;  no,  nor  situation,  although  I  envy  him  the  downs  and 
the  clear  streams,  and  the  southern  instead  of  the  midland  country,  and  the 
associations  of  Alfred's  capital  with  the  tombs  of  Kings  and  Prelates,  as 

compared  with  Rugby  and  its  thirteen  horse  and  cattle  fairs 

But  when  I  look  at  the  last  number  of  the  Rugby  Magazine,  or  at  Vaughan 
or  Simpkinson  at  Thorney  How,  I  envy  neither  him  nor  any  man,  thinking 
that  there  is  a  good  in  Rugby  which  no  place  can  surpass  in  its  quality,  be 
the  quantity  of  it  much  or  little. 


CXXXIX.      TO    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Fox  How,  Ambleside,  Jaly  31,  1836. 

It  is  nearly  a  month  since  you  left  Rugby,  and  yet  I  have  not  written  to 
you  nor  given  you  any  account  of  the  result  of  the  Trustees'  meeting. 
The  result,  however,  was  nothing.  Lord  How  brought  forward  some  mo- 
tion, and  they  divided  on  it,  four  and  four ;  but  as  there  is  no  casting  vote, 
an  equal  division  causes  the  failure  of  any  proposal,  and  accordingly  I 
should  have  known  nothing  about  it,  had  it  not  been  for  private  information. 
In  all  that  passed  publicly,  they  were  all  as  civil  as  usual,  and  did  all  that  I 
wanted  about  the  school.  So  that  the  meeting  went  off  peaceably,  and  the 
Exhibitions  also  went  to  those  whom  I  could  most  have  wished  to  have 
them.  [After  describing  his  journeys  and  plans  in  the  holidays.]  It  gave  me 
the  greatest  pleasure  to  hear  you  say,  when  you  left  Rugby,  that  you  hoped 
to  repeat  your  visit,  and  bring  Mrs.  Hawkins  with  you.  It  is  indeed  a  long 
time  since  I  have  seen  you  in  so  much  quiet,  and  life  is  not  long  enough  to 
afford  such  long  interruptions  of  intercourse.  And  I  have  also  had  great 
pleasure  in  thinking  that  the  result  of  your  visit  confirmed  what  I  had  hoped, 
and  has  shown  that,  if  we  differ  on  some  points,  we  agree  in  many  more, 
and  that  the  amount  of  difference  was  not  so  great  as  both,  perhaps,  during 

a  long  absence  had  been  led  to  fancy I  was  amused  to  see 

the  names  of  Pusey  and  some  other  strong  High  Churchmen  attached  to  a 
petition  against  one  of  the  Bills  drawn  on  the  Church  Commissioners'  Re- 
port. It  will  be  difficult  to  legislate  where  the  most  opposite  extremes  of 
parties  seem  united  against  the  government.  There  are  few  men  with 
whom  I  differ  more  than  the  Bishop  of  Exeter ;  but  I  cordially  approve  of 
his  Amendment  on  the  Marriage  Act  so  far  as  it  goes  ;  only  I  wish  that  he 
had  added  to  the  words  "  in  the  presence  of  God,"  the  true  sign  and  mark 
of  a  Christian  act,  "  and  in  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  I  do  not 
believe  that  any  Unitarian  would  have  objected  to  it,  nor  any  one  else  ex- 
cept those  who  seem  to  me  to  be  utterly  puzzled  with  the  notions  of  a  "civil 
act,"  and  a  "  religious  act.'' 


CXL.       TO    SIR    J.    FRANKLIN,^K.    C.    B. 
(Then  appointed  Governor  of  Van  Diemen's  Land.) 

Fox  How,  Jaly  20,  1836. 

I  sometimes  think  that  if  the  government  would  make 

me  a  Bishop,  or  principal  of  a  college  or  school, — or  both  together, — in  such 
a  place  as  Van  Diemen's  Land,  and  during  your  government,  I  could  be 
tempted  to  emigrate  with  all  my  family  for  good  and  all.  There  can  be,  I 
think,  no  more  useful  or  more  sacred  task,  than  assisting  in  forming  the  moral 
and  intellectual  character  of  a  new  society ;  it  is  the  surest  and  best  kind  of 
Missionary  labour.  But  our  colonial  society  has  been  in  general  so  Jaco- 
binical in  the  truest  sense  of  the  word  ; — every  man  has  lived  so  much  to 
and  for  himself,  and  the  bonds  of  law  and  religion  have  been  so  little  ac- 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  283 

knowledged  as  the  great  sanctions  and  securities  of  society, — that  one  shrinks 
from  bringing  up  one's  children  where  they  must  in  all  human  probability 
become  lowered,  not  in  rank  or  fortune,  but  in  what  is  infinitely  more  import- 
ant, in  the  intellectual  and  moral  and  religious  standard  by  which  their  lives 
would  be  guided. 

Feeling  this,  and  holding  our  West  Indian  colonies  to  be  one  of  the 
worst  stains  in  the  moral  history  of  mankind,  a  convict  colony  seems  to  me 
to  be  even  more  shocking  and  more  monstrous  in  its  very  conception.  I  do  not 
know  to  what  extent  Van  Diemen's  Land  is  so;  but  I  am  sure  that  no  such 
evil  can  be  done  to  mankind  as  by  thus  sowing  with  rotten  seed,  and  raising 
up  a  nation  morally  tainted  in  its  very  origin.  Compared  with  this,  the 
bloodiest  exterminations  ever  effected  by  conquest  were  useful  and  good  ac- 
tions. If  they  will  colonize  with  convicts,  I  am  satisfied  that  the  stain  should 
last,  not  only  for  one  whole  life,  but  for  more  than  one  generation  ;  that  no 
convict  or  convict's  child  should  ever  be  a  free  citizen  ;  and  that  even  in  the 
third  generation,  the  offspring  should  be  excluded  from  all  offices  of  honour 
or  authority  in  the  colony.  This  would  be  complained  of  as  unjust  or  invid- 
ious, but  I  am  sure  that  distinctions  of  moral  breed  are  as  natural  and  as 
just  as  those  of  skin  or  of  arbitrary  caste  are  wrong  and  mischievous;  it  is  a 
law  of  God's  providence  which  we  cannot  alter,  that  the  sins  of  the  father 
are  really  visited  upon  the  child  in  the  corruption  of  his  breed,  and  in  the 
rendering  impossible  many  of  the  feelings  which  are  the  greatest  security  to 
a  child  against  evil. 

Forgive  me  for  ail  this ;  but  it  really  is  a  happiness  to  me  to  think  of  you 
in  Van  Diemen's  Land,  where  you  will  be,  I  know,  not  in  name  nor  in  form, 
but  in  deed  and  in  spirit,  the  best  and  chief  missionary. 


CXLI.   TO  THE  REV.  JAMES  HEARN. 

Rugby,  September  14,  1836. 

I  know  not  when  I  have  been  more  delighted  by  any  letter,  than  by  that 
which  I  lately  received  from  you.  It  contains  a  picture  of  your  present  state 
which  is  truly  a  cause  for  thankfulness,  and  speaking  after  the  manner  of  men, 
it  is  an  intense  gratification  to  my  sense  of  justice,  as  well  as  to  my  personal 
regard  for  you,  to  see  a  life  of  hard  and  insufficiently  paid  labour  well  per- 
formed, now,  before  its  decline,  rewarded  with  comparative  rest  and  with 
comfort.  I  rejoiced  in  the  picture  which  you  gave  of  your  house  and  fields 
and  neighbourhood;  there  was  a  freshness  and  a  quietness  about  it  which 
always  goes  very  much  to  my  heart,  and  which  at  times,  if  I  indulged  the 
feeling,  could  half  make  me  discontented  with  the  perpetual  turmoil  of  my 
own  life.  For  Westmoreland  itself  has  not  to  me  the  perfect  peacefulness 
of  the  idea  of  a  country  parsonage ;  the  house  is  too  new,  the  trees  too 
young  and  small,  the  neighbourhood  too  numerous,  and  our  stay  is  too  short 
and  too  busily  engaged,  to  allow  of  any  thing  like  entire  repose  at  it.  It  is 
a  most  delightful  tonic  to  brace  me  for  the  coming  half  year ;  but  it  does  not 
admit  of  a  full  abandonment  to  its  enjoyments,  and  it  is  well  that  it  does  not. 
I  sometimes  look  at  the  mountains  which  bound  our  valley,  and  think  how 
content  I  could  be  never  to  wander  beyond  them  any  more,  and  to  take  rest 
in  a  place  which  I  love  so  dearly.  But  whilst  my  health  is  so  entire,  and  I 
feel  my  spirits  still  so  youthful,  I  feel  ashamed  of  the  wish,  and  I  trust  that  I 
can  sincerely  rejoice  in  being  engaged  in  so  active  a  life,  and  in  having 
such  constant  intercourse  with  others.  Still  I  can  heartily  and  lawfully  re- 
joice that  you  are  permitted  to  rest  whilst  your  age  and  spirits  are  also  yet 
unbroken,  and  that  the  hurry  of  your  journey  is  somewhat  abating,  and  al- 
lows you  more  steadily  to  contemplate  its  close. 

......     Our  own  two  boys  have  gone  to  Winchester,  and  have 


284 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


taken  a  very  good  place  in  the  school,  and  seem  very  comfortable  there ;  I 
am  sure  you  will  give  them  your  prayers,  that  they  maybe  defended  amidst 
the  manifold  temptations  of  their  change  of  life.  I  feel  as  if  I  could  draw  the 
remaining  children  yet  closer  around  me,  and  as  if  I  could  not  enough  prize 
the  short  period  which  passes  before  they  go  out  into  life,  never  again  to  feel 
their  father's  house  their  abiding  home.  I  turn  from  public  affairs  almost  in 
despair,  as  I  think  that  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  what  I  most  long  for  will 
be  accomplished.  Yet  I  still  wish  entirely  well  to  the  Government,  and 
regard  with  unabated  horror  the  Conservatives  both  in  Church  and  State. 
They  are,  however,  I  believe,  growing  in  influence,  and  so  they  will  do, 
until  there  comes  a  check  to  our  present  commercial  prosperity,  for  vulgar 
minds  never  can  understand  the  duty  of  Reform  till  it  is  impressed  on  them 
by  the  argumentum  ad  ventrem ;  and  the  mass  of  mankind,  whether  in  good 
coats  or  in  bad.  will  always  be  vulgar-minded. 


CXLII.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

(Then  at  Fox  How  with  his  family.) 

Rugby,  September  23, 1836. 

If  you  have  the  same  soft  air  that  is  now  breathing  round  us,  and  the 
same  bright  sun  playing  on  the  trees,  which  are  full  charged  with  the  fresh- 
ness of  last  night's  rain,  you  must,  I  think,  be  in  a  condition  to  judge  well  of 
the  beauty  of  Fox  How.  It  is  a  real  delight  to  think  of  you  as  at  last  ar- 
rived there,  and  to  feel  that  the  place  which  we  so  love  is  enjoyed  by  such 
dear  friends,  who  can  enjoy  it  fully.  I  congratulate  you  on  your  deliverance 
from  Lancaster  Castle,  and  by  what  you  said  in  your  last  letter,  you  are  sat- 
isfied, I  imagine,  with  the  propriety  ol^  the  verdict.  Now  you  can  not  only 
see  the  mountains  afar  off,  but  feel  them  in  eyes,  lungs,  and  mind ;  and  a 
mio-bty  influence  I  think  it  is.  I  often  used  to  think  of  the  solemn  compari- 
son in  the  Psalm,  "  the  hills  stand  about  Jerusalem;  even  so  standeth  the 
Lord  round  about  his  people."  The  girdling  in  of  the  mountains  round  the 
valley  of  our  home  is  as  apt  an  image  as  any  earthly  thing  can  be  of  the  en- 
circling of  the  everlasting  arms,  keeping  off  evil,  and  showering  all  good. 

But  my  great  delight  in  thinking  of  you  at  Fox  How  is  mixed  with  no 
repining  that  I  cannot  be  there  myself.  We  have  had  our  holyday,  and  it 
was  a  long  and  most  agreeable  one  ;  and  Nemesis  might  well  be  angry,  if  I 
was  not  now  ready  and  glad  to  be  at  work  again.  Besides,  I  think  that  the 
school  is  ao-ain  in  a  very  hopeful  state  ;  the  set,  which  rather  weighed  us 
down  during  the  last  year,  is  now  broken  and  dispersed ;  and  the  tide  is 
ao-ain,  I  trust,  at  flood,  and  will,  I  hope,  go  on  so.  You  would  smile  to  see 
the  zeal  with  which  I  am  trying  to  improve  the  Latin  verse,  and  the  diffi- 
culty which  I  find  in  doing  it.  But  I  stand  in  amaze  at  the  utter  want  of 
poetical  feeling  in  the  minds  of  the  majority  of  boys.  They  cannot  in 
the  least  understand  either  Homer  or  Virgil  ;  they  cannot  follow  out  the 
strong  graphic  touches  which,,  to  an  active  mind,  suggest  such  infinitely 
varied  pictures,  and  yet  leave  it  to  the  reader  to  draw  them  for  himself  on 
the  hint  o-iven.  But  my  delight  in  going  over  Homer  and  Virgil  with  the 
boys  makes  me  think  what  a  treat  it  must  be  to  teach  Shakespeare  to  a 
good  class  of  young  Greeks  in  regenerate  Athens  ;  to  dwell  upon  him  line 
bv  line  and  word  by  word,  in  the  way  that  nothing  but  a  translation  lesson 
ever  will  enable  one  to  do ;  and  so  to  get  all  his  pictures  and  thoughts  leis- 
urely into  one's  mind,  till  I  verily  think  one  would  after  a  time  almost  give 
out  lio-ht  in  the  dark,  after  having  been  steeped  as  it  were  in  such  an  atmo- 
sphere of  brilliance.  And  how  could  this  ever  be  done  without  having  the 
process  of  construing,  as  the  grosser  medium  through  which  alone  all  the 
beauty  can  be  transmitted,  because  else  we  travel  too  fast,  and  more  than 
half  of  it   escapes  us  ?     Shakespeare,  with  English  boys,  would  be  but  a 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  285 

poor  substitute  for  Homer ;  but  I  confess  that  I  should  be  glad  to  get  Dante 
and  Goethe  now  and  then  in  the  room  of  some  of  the  Greek  tragedians  and 
of  Horace ;  or  rather  not  in  their  room,  but  mixed  up  along  with  them.  I 
have  been  trying  something  of  this  in  French,  as  I  am  now  going  through, 
with  the  Sixth  Form,  Barante's  beautiful  Tableau  de  la  Litterature  Fran- 
chise pendant  le  Dix  huitieme  Siecle.  I  thought  of  you  tbe  other  day, 
when  one  of  my  fellows  translated  to  me  that  splendid  paragraph,  comparing 
"Voltaire  to  the  Babouc  of  one  of  his  own  romances,  for  I  think  you  first 
showed  me  the  passage  many  years  ago.  Now  by  going  through  Barante 
in  this  way,  one  gets  it  thoroughly  ;  and  with  a  really  good  book,  I  think  it 
is  a  great  gain 


CXLIII.      *  TO    A.    P.    STANLEY,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  October  21,  1£3S. 

.  .  .  .  As  long  as  you  read  moderately,  and  not  voraciously,  I  can 
consent  that  your  reading  should  even  prevent  your  coming  to  Rugby  ;■  and 
I  am  glad  that,  by  beginning  in  time,  you  will  escape  all  excessive  pressure 
at  last.  You  will  be  rejoicing  at  the  meeting  of  the  scattered  members  of 
your  society  after  the  Long  Vacation.  I  can  well  recall  the  same  feeling, 
deeply  associated  in  my  mind  with  the  October  tints  of  the  Nettlebed  beech 
woods,  through  which  my  road  to  Oxford,  from  Kensington  and  Hampton, 
always  lay.  The  separation  had  been  long  enough  to  make  the  meeting 
more  than  joyous,  and  some  of  my  most  delightful  remembrances  of  Oxford 
and  its  neighbourhood  are  connected  with  the  scenery  of  the  later  autumn  ; 
Bagley  Wood  in  its  golden  decline,  and  the  green  of  the  meadows,  reviving 
for  a  while  under  the  influence  of  a  Martinmas  summer,  and  then  fading 
finally  off  into  its  winter  brown.  Here  our  society  is  too  busy,  as  well  as  too 
old,  to  enjoy  in  common,  though  we  can  work  in  common  ;  but  work  after 
all  is  but   half  the  man,  and  they  who  only  work  together  do  not  truly 

live  together I  agree  with in   a  great  deal,  .and  so 

Newman  might  ask  as  he  does  about  Hampden  and  the  Socinians, 
where  I  begin  to  disagree  with  him.  Politically,  I  do  not  know  that  I 
do  disagree  as  to  any  principle,  and  in  sympathy  with  a  man's  mind  in  argu- 
ment, it  makes  no  difference  whether  he  believes  the  exemplification  of 
your  common  principles  to  be  found  in  this  party  or  in  that  party  ;  that  is  a 
mere  question  of  fact,  which  we  need  not  impannel  a  jury  to  try  ;  meanwhile 

we  are  agreed  as  to  the  law  of  the  case But  to  supply  the  place 

of  Conscience,  with  the  ao/at,  of  Fanaticism  on  one  hand  and  of  Utilita- 
rianism on  the  other, — on  one  side  is  the  mere  sign  from  heaven,  craved  by 
t  hose  who  heeded  not  Heaven's  first  sign  written  within  them  ; — on  the  other, 
it  is  the  idea  which,  hardly  hovering  on  the  remotest  outskirts  of  Christiani- 
ty, readily  flies  off  to  the  camp  of  Materialism  and  Atheism  ;  the  mere 
pared  and  plucked  notion  of*'  good"  exhibited  by  the  word  "  useful ;"  which 
seems  to  me  the  idea  of  "  good"  robbed  of  its  nobleness, — the  sediment 
from  which  the  filtered  water  has  been  assiduously  separated.  It  were  a 
strange  world,  if  there  were  indeed  in  it  no  one  dgxi.rixTnny.bv  tfdoq  but  that 
of  the  £v/u.(f>fgoi' ;  if  y.dlov  were  only  xdXov,  on  £v{ixpigov.  But  this  is  one  of 
the  peculiarities  of  the  English  mind  ;  the  Puritan  and  the  Benthamite  have 
an  immense  part  of  their  nature  in  common ;  and  thus  the  Christianity  of 
the  Puritan  is  coarse  and  fanatical.; — he  cannot  relish  what  there  is  in  it  of 
beautiful  or  delicate  or  ideal.  Men  get  embarrassed  by  the  common  cases 
of  a  misguided  conscience  ;  but  a  compass  may  be  out  of  order  as  well  as  a 
conscience ;  and  the  needie  may  point  due  south  if  you  hold  a  powerful 
magnet  in  that  direction.  Still  the  compass,  generally  speaking,  is  a  true 
and  sure  guide,  and  so  is  the  conscience  ;  and  you  can  trace  the  deranging 
influence  on  tire  latter  quite  as  surely  as  on  the  former.     Again,  there  is 


286  LIFE   0F    DR   ARNOLD. 

confusion  in  some  men's  minds,  who  say  that  if  we  so  exalt  conscience,  we 
make  ourselves  the  paramount  judges  of  all  things,  and  so  do  not  live  by 
faith  and  obedience.  But  he  who  believes  his  conscience  to  be  God's  law, 
by  obeying  it  obeys  God.  It  is  as  much  obedience,  as  it  is  obedience  to  fol- 
low the  dictates  of  God's  Spirit;  and  in  every  case  of  obedience  to  any  law 
or  guide  whatsoever,  there  always  must  be  one  independent  act  of  the 
mind  pronouncing  this  one  determining  proposition,  "  I  ought  to  obey  ;"  so 
that  in  obedience,  as  in  every  moral  act,  we  are  and  must  be  the  paramount 
judges,  because  we  must  ourselves  decide  on  that  very  principle,  "  that  we 
ought  to  obey." 

And  as  for  faith,  there  is  again  a  confusion  in  the  use  of  the  term.  It  is 
not  scriptural,  but  fanatical,  to  oppose  faith  to  reason.  Faith  is  properly 
opposed  to  sense,  and  is  the  listening  to  the  dictates  of  the  higher  part  of 
our  mind,  to  which  alone  God  speaks,  rather  than  to  the  lower  part  of  us,  to 
which  the  world  speaks.  There  is  no  end  to  the  mischiefs  done  by  that  one 
very  common  and  perfectly  unscriptural  mistake  of  opposing  faith  and 
reason,  or  whatever  you  choose  to  call  the  highest  part  of  man's  nature. 
And  this  you  Avill  find  that  the  Scripture  never  does  ;  and  observing  this, 
cuts  down  at  once  all  Pusey's  nonsense  about  Rationalism ;  which,  in  order 
to  be  contrasted  scripturally  with  faith,  must  mean  the  following  some  lower 
part  of  our  nature,  whether  sensual  or  merely  intellectual ; — that  is,  some 
part  which  does  not  acknowledge  God.  But  what  he  abuses  as  Rationalism 
is  just  what  the  Scripture  commends  as  knowledge,  judgment,  understand- 
ing, and  the  like ;  that  is,  not  the  following  a  merely  intellectual  part  of  our 
nature,  but  the  sovereign  part ;  that  is,  the  moral  reason  acting  under  God, 
and  using,  so  to  speak,  the  telescope  of  faith,  for  objects  too  distant  for  its 
naked  eye  to  discover.  And  to  this  is  opposed,  in  Scriptural  language,  folly 
and  idolatry  and  blindness,  and  other  such  terms  of  reproof.  According 
to  Pusey,  the  forty-fourth  chapter  of  Isaiah  is  Rationalism,  and  the  man  who 
bowed  down  to  the  stock  of  a  tree  was  a  humble  man,  who  did  not  inquire 
but  believe.  But  if  Isaiah  be  right,  and  speaks  the  words  of  God,  then  Pusey, 
and  the  man  who  bowed  down  to  the  stock  of  a  tree,  should  learn  that  God 
is  not  served  by  folly. 


CXLIV.      TO    SIR    THOMAS    S.    PASLEY,    BART. 

Rugby,  October  29,  1836. 

The  authority  for  the  statement  which  you  quote  is  to 

be  found  in  Hallam's  Constitutional  History,  vol.  i.  chap,  iv.,  which  says 
that  "  it  was  a  common  practice  for  several  years  to  appoint  laymen,  usually 
mechanics,  to  read  the  service  in  vacant  churches."  This  does  not  touch 
the  question  on  the  Sacraments,  nor  do  I  imagine  that  any  layman  was 
ever  authorized  in  the  Church  of  England  to  administer  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per ;  but  lay  baptism  was  allowed  by  Hooker  to  be  valid,  and  no  distinction 
can  be  drawn  between  one  sacrament  and  the  other.  Language  more  to 
the  purpose  is  to  be  found  in  Tertullian, — I  think  in  the  Treatise  De  Corona 
Militis, — but  at  any  rate  he  states  first  of  all  that  the  mode  of  administering 
rather  than  communicating  in  the  Sacrament  was  a  departure  from  the 
original  practice  ;  and  then  he  explains  the  origin  of  the  practice  by  using 
the  word  "  Prresidentes  "  not  "Sacerdotes"  or  "  Presbyteri ;" — that  is,  the 
person  who  presided  at  the  table  for  order's  sake  would  distribute  the  bread 
and  wine  ;  and  in  almost  every  case  he  would  be  an  elder,  or  one  invested 
with  a  share  of  the  government  of  the  Church,  but  he  did  it  not  as  priest, 
but  as  president  of  the  assembly ;  which  makes  just  the  whole  difference. 
But,  after  all,  the  whole  question  as  to  the  matter  of  right,  and  the  priestly 
power,  must  be  answered  out  of  the  New  Testament ;  no  one  disputes  the 
propriety  of  the  general  practice  as  it  now  stands ;  but  the  Church  of  Eng- 


LIFE   OP    DR.  ARNOLD.  287 

land  has  not  said  that  it  adopts  this  practice  hecause  it  is  essential  to  the 
validity  of  the  sacraments  and  is  of  divine  institution,  but  leaves  the  ques- 
tion of  principle  open  ;  and  this  of  course  can  only  be  decided  out  of  the 
Scriptures.  That  the  Scriptures  are  clear  enough  against  the  priestcraft 
notion,  is  to  me  certain ;  the  more  so  that  nothing  is  quoted  for  it,  but  the 
words  of  St.  Paul,  "  The  bread  which  we  break,  the  cup  which  we  bless," 
&c. ;  words  which,  quoted  as  a  text,  look  something  to  the  quoter's  purpose, 
because  the  ignorant  reader  may  think  that  "  we  "  means  St.  Paul  and  his 
brother  apostles  ;  but  if  any  one  from  the  text  looks  to  the  passage,  he  will 
find  that  the  ';  we  "is  the  whole  Christian  congregation,  inasmuch  as  the 
words  immediately  following  are,  "  for  we  being  many  are  one  bread  and 
one  body,  for  we  are  all  partakers  of  that  one  bread."  1  Corinth,  x.  Yet 
this  text  I  have  both  seen  in  books  and  heard  in  conversation  quoted  as  a 
Scripture  authority  for  the  exclusive  right  of  the  clergy  to  administer  the 
Communion.  Wherefore  I  conclude,  independently  of  my  own  knowledge 
of  the  New  Testament,  that  such  an  argument  as  this  would  not  have  been 
used,  if  any  thing  tolerable  were  to  be  had. 


CXLV.      *  TO    DR.   GREENHILL. 

Rugby,  October  31,  1836. 

I  was  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  letter,  and  much  gratified  by  it. 
It  is  a  real  pleasure  to  me  to  find  that  you  are  taking  steadily  to  a  profession, 
without  which  I  scarcely  see  how  a  man  can  live  honestly.  That  is,  I  use 
the  term  "  profession  "  in  rather  a  large  sense,  not  as  simply  denoting  cer- 
tain callings  which  a  man  follows  for  his  maintenance,  but  rather,  a  definite 
field  of  duty,  which  the  nobleman  has  as  much  as  the  tailor,  but  which  he 
has  not,  who  having  an  income  large  enough  to  keep  him  from  starving, 
hangs  about  upon  life,  merely  following  his  own  caprices  and  fancies ;  quod 
factu  pessimum  est.  I  can  well  enough  understand  how  medicine,  like 
every  other  profession,  has  its  moral  and  spiritual  dangers ;  but  I  do.  not  see 
why  it  should  have  more  than  others.  The  tendency  to  Atheism,  I  imagine, 
exists  in  every  study  followed  up  vigorously,  without  a  foundation  of  faith, 
and  that  foundation  carefully  strengthened  and  built  upon.  The  student  in 
History  is  as  much  busied  with  secondary  causes  as  the  student  in  medi- 
cine ;  the  rule  "  nee  Deus  intersit,"  true  as  it  is  up  to  a  certain  point,  that  we 
may  not  annihilate  man's  agency  and  make  him  a  puppet,  is  ever  apt  to  be 
followed  too  far  when  we  are  become  familiar  with  man  or  with  nature,  and 
understand  the  laws  which  direct  both.  Then  these  laws  seem  enough  to 
account  for  every  thing,  and  the  laws  themselves  we  ascribe  either  to 
chance,  or  the  mystifications  called  "  nature,"  or  the  "  anima  mundi,"  the 
"  spiritus  intus  alit "  of  Pantheism.  If  there  is  any  thing  special  in  the 
atheistic  tendency  of  medicine,  it  arises,  I  suppose,  from  certain  vague 
notions  about  the  soul,  its  independence  of  matter,  &c,  and  from  the  habit 
of  considering  these  notions  as  an  essential  part  of  religion.  Now  I  think 
that  the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  Resurrection  meets  the  Materialists  so  far 
as  this,  that  it  does  imply  that  a  body,  or  an  organization  of  some  sort,  is 
necessary  to  the  full  development  of  man's  nature.  Beyond  this  we  can- 
not go  ;  for, — granting  that  the  brain  is.  essential  to  thought, — still  no  man 
can  say  that  the  white  pulp  which  you  can  see  and  touch  and  anatomize 
can  itself  think,  and  by  whatever  names  we  endeavour  to  avoid  acknowledg- 
ing the  existence  of  mind, — whether  we  talk  of  a  subtle  fluid,  or  a  wonderful 
arrangement  of  nerves,  or  any  thing  else, — still  we  do  but  disguise  our  ig- 
norance ;  for  the  act  of  thinking  is  one  sui  generis,  and  the  thinking  power 
must  in  like  manner  be  different  from  all  that  we  commonly  mean  by  matter. 
The  question  of  Free  Will  is,  and  ever  must  be,  imperfectly  understood.  If 
a.  man  denies  that  he  has  a  will  either  to  sit  or  not  to  sit,  to  write  a  note  or 


288  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

no,  I  cannot  prove  to  him  that  he  has  one.  If  again,  he  maintains  that  th© 
choosing  power  in  him  cannot  but  choose  what  seems  to  it  to  be  good,  then 
this  is  a  great  tribute  to  the  importance  of  good  habits,  and  to  the' duty  of  im- 
pressing right  notions  of  good  on  the  young  mind,  all  which  is  perfectly 
true.  And,  in  the  last  case,  if  a  man  maintains  that  his  nature  irresistibly 
teaches  him  that  what  we  call  good  is  evil,  and  vice  versa,  then  I  find  at 
once  the  value  of  those  passages  in  Scripture  which  have  been  so  griev- 
ously misused,  and  I  see  before  me  a  vessel  of  wrath  fitted  for  destruction, 
fitted,  as  I  believe,  through  its  own  fault;  but  if  it  denies  this,  then  at  any 
rate  fitted  for  destruction  and  on  the  sure  way  to  it. 

But  no  doubt  every  study  requires  to  be  tempered  and  balanced  with 
something  out  of  itself,  if  it  be  only  to  prevent  the  mind  from  becoming 
"  einseitig,"  or  pedantic ;  and,  ascending  higher  still,  all  intellectual  study, 
however  comprehensive,  requires  spiritual  stiuly  to  be  joined  with  it,  lest 
our  nature  itself  become  "  einseitig  ; "  the  intellect  growing ;  the  higher  rea- 
son— the  moral  and  spiritual  wisdom — stunted  and  decaying.  You  will  be 
thinking  that  I  have  been  writing  a  sermon  by  mistake,  instead  of  a  letter, 
but  your  letter  led  me  into  it.  I  believe  that  any  man  can  make  himself  an 
Atheist  speedily,  by  breaking  off  his  own  personal  communion  with  God  in 
Christ;  but,  if  he  keep  this  unimpaired,  I  believe  that  no  intellectual  study, 
whether  of  nature  or  of  man,  will  force  him  into  Atheism  ;  but  on  the  con- 
trary, the  new  creations  of  our  knowledge,  so  to  speak,  gather  themselves 
into  a. fair  and  harmonious  system,  ever  revolving  in  their  brightness  around 
their  proper  centre,  the  throne  of  God.  Prayer,  and  kindly  intercourse  with 
the  poor,  are  the  two  great  safeguards  of  spiritual  life; — its  more  than  food 
and  raiment.. 


crxLvr.     to  w.  w.  hull,  esq. 

Rugb)v  November  10, 1836. 

I  have  begun  the  Thessalonians,  and  like  the  work  much  r  but  I  dread 
the  difficulty  of  the  second  chapter  of  the  Second  Epistle.  You  will  not  care 
to  hear  that  I  have  got  into  the  fourth  Book  of  Gaius.  But  you  will  not,  1 
hope,  find  it  against  your  conscience,  so  far  to  aid  my  studies  of  law,  as  to 
get  for  me  a  good  copy,  if  you  can,  of  Littleton's  works  upon  which  Coke 
commented.  Coleridge  recommended  it  to  me  as  illustrating  the  early  state 
of  our  law  of  real  property,  with  the  iniquities  of  feudality  and  the  conquest 
as  yet  in  all  their  freshness.  I  am  fully  persuaded  that  he,  who  were  to  get 
the  law  of  real  property  of  any  country  in  all  its  fullness,  would  have  one  of 
the  most  important  indications  of  its  political  and  social  state.  We  have  got 
Coleridge's  Literary  Remains,  in  which  I  do  rejoice  greatly.  I  think  with 
all  his  faults  old  Sam  was  more  of  a  great  man  than  any  one  who  has  lived 
within  the  four  seas  in  my  memory.  It  is  refreshing  to  see  sueh  a  union  of 
the  highest  philosophy  and  poetry,  with  so  full  a  knowledge,  on  so  many 
points  at  least,  of  particular  facts.  But  yet  there  are  marks  enough  that  his 
mind  was  a  little  diseased  by  the  want  of  a  profession,  and  the  consequent 
unsteadiness  of  his  mind  and  purposes ;  ft  always  seems  to  me  that  the  very 
power  of  contemplation  becomes  impaired  or  perverted,  when  it  is  made  the 
main  employment  of  life.  Yet  I  would  fain  have  more  time  for  contempla- 
tion than  I  have  at  present;  so  hard  is  it  rr^t^v  tov  /u-tooit. 


CXLVII.       TO    THE    ARCHBISHOP    OF     DUBLIN. 

Rugby,  November  25,  1836. 

Thank  you  very  much  for  your  inclosure  against  neutrality, 

which  I  suspect  would  be  repelled  by  the  state  of  mind  of  those  for  whom  isi 


LIFE  OP   DR.  ARNOLD.  cjgg 

is  designed,  like  a  cannon  ball  by  a  woolpack.  Neutrality  seems  to  me  a 
natural  state  for  men  of  fair  honesty,  moderate  wit,  and  much  indolence ; 
they  cannot  get  strong  impressions  of  what  is  true  and  right,  and  the  weak 
impression,  which  is  all  that  they  can  take,  cannot  mrercome  indolence  and 
fear.  I  crave  a  strong  mind  for  my  children,  for  thi^peason,  that  they  then 
have  a  chance  at  least  of  appreciating  truth  keenly ;  and  when  a  man  does 
that,  honesty  becomes  comparatively  easy;  as,  for  instance,  Peel  has  an 
idea  about  the  currency,  and  a  distinct  impression  about  it;  and  therefore 
on  that  point  I  would  trust  him  for  not  yielding  to  clamour;  but  about  most 
matters,  the  Church  especially,  he  seems  to  have  no  idea,  and  therefore  I 
would  not  trust  him  for  not  giving  it  all  up  to-morrow,  if  the  clamour  were 

loud  enough We  look  forward  with  some  yearnings  to  Fox  How, 

and  we  much  wish  to  know  when  you  will  all  be  coming  over.  It  is  but  an 
ostrich-like  feeling,  but  it  seems  as  if  I  could  fancy  things  to  be  more  peace- 
ful when  I  am  out  of  the  turmoil,  down  in  Westmoreland,  and  I  find  that  I 

crave  after  peace  more  and  more.     But  it  is  ovrtw,  oW« I  shall 

have  occasion  soon  to  set  to  work  at  the  Celtic  languages.  Can  you  get  for 
me,  and  send  me  a  good  Erse  grammar ;  and  that  book  that  you  were  men- 
tioning, about  the  Welsh  being  Picts,  and  not  the  Aborigines  of  Wales  1  I 
shall  want  all  this  for  the  Gallic  invasion  of  Rome ;  so  beautifully  does 
History  branch  out  into  all  varieties  of  questions,  and  continually  lead  one 
into  fresh  fields  of  knowledge.  I  have  all  but  finished  my  abstract  of  Gaius' 
Institutes  of  the  Roman  Law,  and  delight  in  it. 


CXLVMI.   TO  W.  C.  LAKE,  ESQ. 

Rugby,  November  18, 1836. 

I   am  well   satisfied  with   your  impressions   of  Germany.     I 

never  have  wished  to  exchange  my  own  country  for  it,  but  I  feel  indignant 
that,  with  all  our  enormous  advantages,  we  continually  let  the  Germans  do 
what  ought  to  be  done  by  us.  But  I  have  no  temptation,  even  for  one  sum- 
mer, to  resign  Fairfield  for  Drachenfels.  I  dare  say  that  gossiping  flourishes 
among  the  German  women,  as  smoking  does  among  the  men,  and  I  like 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other ;  and  their  scholars  are  perhaps  instances  of 
the  division  of  labour  carried  into  excess:1  they  are  not  enough  universal, 
not  enough  of  men,  of  citizens,  and  of  Christians.  But  then  I  turn  and  look 
round,  and  where  can  I  find  what  we  should  most  desire  on  this  side  of  the 
water  either?  Where  is  the  knowledge,  where  the  wisdom,  and  where  the 
goodness,  which  combine  to  form  the  great  man  ?  I  know  of  no  man  who 
approaches  to  this  character  except  Whately,  and  he  is  taken  away  from 
the  place  where  lie  was  wanted,  and  sent  where  the  highest  greatness 
would  struggle  in  vain  against  the  overpowering  disadvantages  of  his 
position. 

We,  in  our  little  world,  are  going  on  much  as  usual,  but  of  this  you  will 
hear  from  Clough  more  than  I  could  tell  you.  For  myself,  I  have  nearly 
finished  my  abstract,  or  almost  translation  of  Gaius'  Institutes,  which  I 
thought  it  necessary  to  finish  before  I  begun  to  write  about  the  Twelve 
Tables.  It  has  answered  to  me,  I  think,  very  well ;  for,  by  the  mere  result 
of  having  had  my  mind  so  long  engaged  about  the  Roman  Law,  so  left,  as 

1  Extract  of  a  Letter  of  Chevalier  Bunsen,  in  October,  1836. — "What  a  strange 
work  Strauss'  Leben  Jesu  appears  to  me, "judging  of  it  from  the  notices  in  the '  Studien 
und  Kritiken.'  It  seems  to  me  to  show  the  ill  effects  of  that  division  of  labour  which 
prevails  so  much  amongst  the  learned  men  of  Germany.  Strauss  writes  about  history 
and  myths,  without  appearing  to  have  studied  the  question,  but  having  heard  that  some 
pretended  histories  are  mythical,  he  borrows  this  notion  as  an  engine  to  help  him  out  of 
Christianity.  But  the  idea  of  men  writing  mythic  histories  between  the  time  of  Livy  and 
Tacitus,  and  of  St.  Paul  mistaking  such  for  realities  !" 


290  LIFE   0F    DR.  ARNOLD. 

it  were,  to  soak  in  it,  I  have  gained  a  much  greater  familiarity  with  it  than 
I  could  have  done  by  a  short  and  voracious  cram  of  the  same  number  of 
pages.  It  has  greatly  served  to  increase  that  sense  of  reality  about  the 
Romans, — that  livina^n  a  manner  amongst  them,  and  having  them  and 
their  life  distinctlj  Itarc  our  eyes, — which  appears  to  me  so  indispensable 
to  one  who  would  wnte  their  history.  This  is  quiet  and  interesting,  but 
not  exciting  reading ;  other  points  press  me  more  nearly,  and  seem  to  have 
a  higher  claim  upon  me.  I  have  translated  nearly  half  of  the  first  Epistle 
to  the  Thessalonians,  and  am  disposed  to  prefer  the  plan  of  bringing  out 
these  two  Epistles  first,  rather  than  the  Pastoral  Epistles.  The  chronologi- 
cal order  of  the  Epistles  is  undoubtedly  the  natural  one,  and  luckily  the 
Epistles  to  the  Thessalonians  offer  no  very  suspicious  topics ;  they  will  not 
be  thought  to  have  been  chosen  for  purposes  of  controversy,  and  yet  they 
may  really  be  made  to  serve  my  purposes  quite  as  well ;  for  every  part  of 
the  New  Testament  gives  a  picture  of  Christianity  or  of  some  one  great 
feature  in  it,  and  every  part  negatively  confutes  the  Priestcraft  heresy,  be- 
cause that  is  to  be  found  nowhere,  insomuch  that  no  man  yet  ever  fell  or 
could  fall  into  that  heresy  by  studying  the  Scriptures  ;  they  are  a  bar  to  it 
altogether,  and  it  is  only  when  they  are  undermined  by  traditions  and  the 
rudiments  of  men  that  the  heresy  begins  to  make  its  way.  And  it  is  making 
its  way  fearfully,  but  it  will  not  take  the  form  that  Newman  wishes,  but  its 
far  more  natural  and  consistent  form  of  pure  Popery.  .  .  . 


CXLIX.      TO    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Rugby,  November  23,  1836. 

I  am  quite  well  again,  and  indeed  my  attack  was  short  and 

slight ;  only  so  far  remarkable  to  me  that  I  kept  my  bed  one  whole  day  for 
the  first  time  since  1S07,  which  was  as  gentle  a  reminder  as  could  have  been 
given  me,  that  my  health  cannot  be  always  what  it  has  been.     We  are  all 

well,  and  are  very  glad  to  hear  good  accounts  of  your  party I  was 

in  Laleham  for  five  hours  on  Monday  morning,  to  attend  the  funeral  of  my 
aunt,  the  last  survivor  of  my  mother's  household.  She  was  in  her  eightieth 
year,  and  after  having  been  an  invalid  all  her  life,  yet  outlived  all  her  own 
family,  and  reached  the  full  age  of  man.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  solemn  a 
thought  it  is  to  have  now  lost  all  my  relations  of  the  generation  preceding 
our  own,  and  to  be  thus  visibly  brought  into  that  generation  whose  time  for 
departure  comes  the  next. 

I  am  very  desirous  of  going  fully  into  my  views  about 

the  Church,  because  there  is  no  subject  which  I  have  more  studied,  and 
none  where  I  seem  to  see  my  way  so  clearly,  or  to  sympathize  more  entirely 
with  the  Scriptures  and  with  the  notions  of  all  great  writers  on  government. 
I  hold  the  Church  to  be  a  most  divine  institution,  and  eminently  character- 
istic of  Christianity,  and  my  abhorrence  of  the  Priestcraft  and  Succession 
doctrines,  (I  do  not  mean  that  they  are  synonymous,)  is  grounded  on  my 
firm  conviction  that  they  are  and  ever  have  been  in  theory  and  in  practice  a 
most  formidable  device  of  the  great  Enemy  to  destroy  the  real  living  Church, 
and  even  to  drive  it  out  of  men's  minds,  by  the  false  and  superstitious  idea  of 
a  Church  which  never  has  and  never  can  overthrow  his  kingdom.  And  in 
this  sense, — so  far  as  Popery  is  priestcraft, — I  do  believe  it  to  be  the  very 
mystery  of  iniquity,  but  then  it  began  in  the  first  century,  and  had  no  more 
to  do  with  Rome  in  the  outset,  than  with  Alexandria,  Antioch,  or  Carthage. 
The  whole  confusion  of  the  ideas  of  priesthood  and  government, — the  taking 
half  a  notion  from  one,  and  half  a  notion  from  the  other, — the  disclaiming  a 
priesthood  and  yet  clinging  to  conclusions  which  are  only  deducible  from  the 
notion  of  a  priesthood, — and  the  want  of  familiarity  with  all  political  ques- 
tions which  characterize  all  that  I  have  ever  seen  written  on  English  High 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


291 


Church  grounds,  may  be  exposed  piece  by  piece  with  the  utmost  ease  and 

certainty I  am  for  the  Church,  and  against  the  priesthood  ; 

not  for  individual  license  against  the  Church. 


CL.      TO    J.    C.    PLATT,    ESQ., 

Rugby,  November  28,  1836. 

The  state  of  the  country  interests  me  as  much  as  ever. 

but  since  my  correspondence  with  the  Sheffield  Courant,  I  have  written 
nothing  on  the  subject.  I  do  not  like  the  aspect  of  things  at  all.  An  extra- 
ordinary period  of  commercial  enterprise  threw  into  the  shade  for  the  time 
all  those  evils  in  the  state  of  the  labouring  population,  which  I  have  ever 
dreaded  as  the  rock  fatal  to  our  greatness  ;  but,  meanwhile,  those  evils  were 
not  removed,  nor  in  fact  attempted  to  be  lessened,  except  by  the  Poor  Law 
Act, — a  measure  in  itself  wise  and  just,  but  which,  standing  alone,  and  unac- 
companied by  others  of  a  milder  and  more  positively  improving  tendency, 
wears  an  air  of  harshness,  and  will,  I  fear,  embitter  the  feelings  of  the  poorer 
classes  still  more.  Now  we  are  threatened  by  a  most  unprincipled  system 
of  agitation, — the  Tories  actually  doing  their  best  to  Jacobinize  the  poor,  in 
the  hope  of  turning  an  outbreak  against  the  Whig  government  to  their  own 
advantage.  Then  there  is  the  Currency  question,  full  of  immense  difficul- 
ties, which  no  man  can  clearly  see  his  way  through.  And  withal  the  threat- 
ened schism  between  the  Whigs  and  Radicals  about  the  Reform  of  the 
House  of  Lords.  Surely  there  never  was  such  folly  as  talking  about  a  re- 
form in  the  House  of  Lords,  when  it  is  very  doubtful  whether,  if  Parliament 
were  dissolved,  the  Tories  would  not  gain  a  majority  even  in  the  House  of 
Commons.  It  is  nonsense  to  talk  of  its  being  a  struggle  between  the  aris- 
tocracy and  the  people  ;  if  it  were  so,  it  would  be  over  in  a  week,  provided 
they  mean  by  the  aristocracy  the  House  of  Lords.  It  is  really  a  great  con- 
test between  the  adherents  of  two  great  principles,  that  of  preserving,  and 
that  of  improving :  and  he  must  have  studied  history  to  very  little  purpose, 
who  does  not  know  that  in  common  circumstances  the  former  party  is  al- 
ways the  most  numerous  and  the  strongest.  It  gets  occasionally  overpow- 
ered, when  it  has  had  rope  enough  given  it  to  hang  itself;  that  is,  when  it 
has  carried  its  favourite  Conservatism  to  such  a  height,  that  the  mass  of  un- 
reformed  evil  becomes  unendurable,  and  then  there  comes  a  grand  reform. 
But  that  grand  reform  once  effected,  the  Conservative  instinct  again  regains 
its  ascendency,  and  goes  on  upon  another  lease ;  and  so  it  will  ever  do,  un- 
less some  rare  circumstances  enabled  a  thoroughly  enlightened  government 
to  remain  long  in  power;  and  as  such  a  government  cannot  rely  on  being 
popular; — for  reform  of  evil  in  the  abstract  is  gall  and  wormwood  alike  to 
men's  indolence,  and  love  of  what  they  are  used  to,  as  to  their  propensities 
for  jobbing, — so  it  is  only  accident  or  despotism  that  can  keep  it  on  its  legs. 
This  is  the  secret  of  the  Tory  reaction ;  because  men  are  all  Tories  by  nature, 
when  they  are  tolerably  well  off,  and  it  is  only  some  monstrous  injustice  or 
insult  to  themselves,  or  some  atrocious  cruelty,  or  some  great  reverses  of 
fortune,  that  ever  make  them  otherwise.  Now  I  cannot  foresee  any  ques- 
tion likely  to  arise  on  which  the  Government  can  strongly  interest  the  public 
mind  in  England  in  their  favour.  Certainly  it  will  not  be  in  the  Irish 
Church  or  Corporation  questions,  because  the  English  people  do  hot  care 
about  Ireland,  nor,  to  say  truth,  about  any  people's  rights  except  their  own, 
and  then  there  is  the  whole  fanatical  feeling  against  the  government,  and 
fanaticism  is  a  far  stronger  feeling  than  the  love  of  justice,  when  the  wrong 
is  done  not  to  ourselves,  but  to  our  neighbour.  Therefore,  I  think  that,  as  it 
always  has  been,  the  Reformers  will  be  beaten  by  the  Conservatives,  and 
then  the ,  Conservatives  will  again  go  on  coiling  the  rope  round  their  own 
necks,  till  in  twenty  years'  time  there  will  be  another,  not  Reform  I  fear,  but 


292  LIFE    0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

convulsion.  For,  though  the  Reformers  are  a  weak  party,  the  Destructives 
are  not  so,  and  all  evils,  whether  arising  from  accident  or  folly,  or  misgov- 
ernment,  serve  their  purpose.  A  great  man  in  the  Whig  government  might 
yet  save  them  perhaps;  that  is,  might  keep  them  in  till  the  king's  death, 
and  then  they  would  have  a  chance,  I  suppose,  of  being  really  supported  by 

the  court  in  a  new  reign.     But  a  great  man  I  cannot  see 

What  I  have  said  about  Tory  reaction,  you  will  find  strongly  confirmed  in 
the  history  of  the  French  Revolution.  After  the  Terror  was  over,  the  Rev- 
olution was  twice  saved  only  by  the  army  in  Vindemiaire,  1795,  and  in 
Fructidor,  1797.  Twice  the  counter-revolutionists  had  gained  the  ascen- 
dency in  the  nation.1 


CLI.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  November  30, 1836. 

I  wish  I  could  sympathize  with  you  in  what  you  say  of 

our  old  Divines.2  I  quite  agree  as  to  their  language  ;  it  is  delightful  to  my 
taste ;  but  I  cannot  find  in  any  of  them  a  really  great  man.  I  admire  Tay- 
lor's genius,  but  yet  how  little  was  he  capable  of  handling  worthily  any 
oreat  question  ?  and.  as  to  interpreters  of  Scripture,  I  never  yet  found  one 
of  them  who  was  above  mediocrity.  I  cannot  call  it  a  learning  worth  any 
thing,  to  be  very  familiar  with  writers  of  this  stamp,  when  they  have  no  facts  to 
communicate  ;  for,  of  course,  even  an  ordinary  man  may  then  be  worth  read- 
ing. I  have  left  off*  reading  our  Divines,  because,  as  Pascal  said  of  the  Je- 
suits, if  I  had  spent  my  time  in  reading  them  fully,  I  should  have  read  a 
great  many  very  indifferent  books.  But  if  I  could  find  a  great  man  amongst 
them,  I  would  read  him  thankfully  and  earnestly.  As  it  is,  I  hold  John  Bun- 
yan3  to  have  been  a  man  of  incomparably  greater  genius  than  any  of  them, 
and  to  have  given  a  far  truer  and  more  edifying  picture  of  Christianity. 
His  Pilgrim's  I?rogress  seems  to  be  a  complete  reflexion  of  Scripture,  with 
none  of  the  rubbish  of  the  theologians  mixed  up  with  it.  I  think  that  Mil- 
ton,— in  his  "  Reformation  in  England,"  or  in  one  of  his  Tracts,  I  forget 
which — treats  the  Church  writers  of  his  time,  and  their  show  of  learning, 
utterly  uncritical  as  it  was,  with  the  feeling  which  they  deserved. 

1  "  I  should  like,"  he  said, "  to  write  a  book  on  '  the  Theory  of  Tides,'  the  flood  and 
ebb  of  parties.  The  English  nation  are  like  a  man  in  a  lethargy  ;  they  are  never  roused 
from  their  Conservatism  till  mustard  poultices  are  put  to  their  feet.  Had  it  not  been  for 
the  fires  of  Smithfield,  they  would  have  remained  hostile  to  the  Reformation.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  butcheries  of  Jefferies,  they  would  have  opposed  the  Revolution." 

*  Of  the  English  Divines  in  general,  this  was  his  deliberate  opinion  : — "  Why  is  it," 
he  said,  "  that  there  are  so  few  great  works  in  Theology  compared  with  any  other  sub- 
ject 1  Is  it  that  all  other  books  on  the  subject  appear  insignificant  by  the  side  of  the 
Scriptures  ?  There  appears  to  me  in  all  the  English  divines  a  want  of  believing  or  dis- 
believing any  thing,  because  it  is  true  or  false.  It  is  a  question  which  does  not  seem  to 
occur  to  them.  Butler  is  indeed  a  noble  exception."  As  he  excepted  Butler  among  the 
Divines  of  a  later  period,  so  amongst  those  of  the  earlier  period  he  excepted  Hooker,  whose 
Ecclesiastical  Polity,  as  a  whole,  he  regarded  with  great  admiration,  though  with  great 
dislike  of  parts  of  it.  "  I  long  to  see  something  which  should  solve  what  is  to  me  the 
great  problem  of  Hooker's  mind.  He  is  the  only  man  that  I  know,  who,  holding  with  his 
whole  mind  and  soul  the  idea  of  the  eternal  distinction  between  moral  and  positive  laws, 
holds  with  it  the  love  for  a  priestly  and  ceremonial  religion,  such  as  appears  in  the  Fifth 
Book." 

3  His  admiration  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  was  very  great : — "  I  cannot  trust  myself," 
he  used  to  say,  "  to  read  the  account  of  Christian  going  up  to  the  Celestial  gate,  after  his 
passage  through  the  river  of  death."  And  when,  in  one  of  the  foreign  tours  of  his  later 
yeare,  he  had  read  it  through  again,  after  a  long  interval,  "  I  have  always,"  said  he, 
"  been  struck  by  its  piety :  I  am  now  struck  equally,  or  even  more,  by  its  profound 
wisdom." 


LIFE   OP    DR.   ARNOLD. 


CLII.       TO    SIR    THOMAS    S.    PASLEY,    BART. 


293 


Eugby,  December  14,  1836. 

.  .  .  .  ,  .  .  The  view  which  you  mention,  is  one  into  which  I  sup- 
pose no  one  ever  fell,  who  became  a  Christian  in  earnest  through  the  work- 
ings of  his  own  mind  and  heart,  and  through  the  Scriptures.  That  is. 
suppose  a  young  man,  when  he  begins  to  think  seriously  upon  life,  resolving 
to  turn  to  God,  and  studying  the  Scriptures  to  learn  the  way, — it  is  clear 
that  all  this  stun"  about  the  true  Church  would  never  so  much  as  come  into 
his  head.  He  would  feel  and  see  that  the  matter  of  his  soul's  salvation  lay 
between  God  and  Christ  on  the  one  hand,  and  himself  on  the  other ;  and 
that  his  belonging  to  this  or  that  Church  had  really  no  more  to  do  with  the 
matter,  than  his  being  born  in  France  or  England,  in  Westmoreland  or  in 
Warwickshire.  The  Scripture  notion  of  the  Church  is,  that  religious  soci- 
ety should  help  a  man  to  become  himself  better  and  holier,  just  as  civil 
society  helps  us  in  civilization.  But  in  this  great  end  of  a  Church  all 
Churches  are  now  greatly  defective,  while  all  fill  it  up  to  a  certain  degree, 
some  less,  others  more.  In  proportion  as  they  fulfil  it  less  perfectly,  so  all 
that  is  said  in  Scripture  of  divisions,  sects,  &c,  becomes  less  applicable.  It 
is  a  great  fault  to  introduce  division  into  an  unanimous  and  efficient  society; 
but  when  the  social  bond  is  all  but  dissolved,  and  the  society  is  no  more 
than  nominal,  there  is  no  such  thing,  properly  speaking,  as  creating  a  divi- 
sion in  it.  In  this  simple  and  Scriptural  view  of  the  matter,  all  is  plain;  we 
were  not  to  derive  our  salvation  through  or  from  the  Church,  but  to  be  kept 
or  strengthened  in  the  way  of  salvation  by  the  aid  and  example  of  our  fel- 
low Christians,  who  were  to  be  formed  into  societies  for  this  very  reason, 
that  they  might  help  one  another,  and  not  leave  each  man  to  fight  his  own 
fight  alone.  But  the  life  of  these  societies  has  been  long  since  gone ;  they 
do  not  help  the  individuals  in  holiness,  and  this  is  in  itself  evil  enouo-h;  but 
it  is  monstrous  that  they  should  pretend  to  fetter,  when  they  do  no?  assist. 
This  view  arises  simply  from  my  old  enemy,  the  priestcraft,  in  this  way.  The 
Popish  and  Oxford  view  of  Christianity  is,  that  the  Church  is  the  mediator 
between  God  and  die  individual:  that  the  Church  (i.  e.  in  their  sense  the 
Clergy)  is  a  sort  o*f  chartered  corporation,  and  that  by  belonging  to  this  cor- 
poration, or  by  being  attached  to  it,  any  given  individual  acquires  such  and 
'such  privileges.  This  is  a  priestcraft,  because  it  lays  the  stress,  not  on  the 
relations  of  a  man's  heart  towards  God  and  Christ,  as  the  Gospel  does,  but 
on  something  wholly  artificial  and  formal, — his  belonging  to  a  certain  so- 
called  society:  and  thus, — whether  the  society  be  alive  or  dead, — whether 
it  really  help  the  man  in  goodness  or  not,— still  it  claims  to  step  in  and  inter- 
pose itself,  as  the  channel  of  grace  and  salvation,  when  it  certainly  is  not 
the  channel  of  salvation,  because  it  is  visibly  -and  notoriously  no  sure  chan- 
nel of  grace.  Whereas,  all  who  go  straight  to  Christ,  without  thinking  of 
the  Church,  do  manifestly  and  visibly  receive  grace,  and  have  the  seal  of 
His  Spirit,  and  therefore  are  certainly  heirs  of  salvation.  This,  I  think, 
applies  to  any  and  every  Church,  it  being  always  true  that  the  salvation  of 
a  man's  soul  is  effected  by  the  change  in  his  heart  and  life,  wrought  by 
Christ's  Spirit;  and  that  his  relation  to  any  Church  is  quite  a  thing  subor- 
dinate and  secondary  :  although,  where  the  Church  is  what  it  should  be,  it 
is  so  great  a  means  of  grace,  that  its  benefits  are  of  the  highest  value.  But 
the  heraldic  or  Succession  view  of  the  question  I  can  hardly  treat  gravely ; 
there  is  something  so  monstrously  profane  in  making  our  heavenly  inherit- 
ance like  an  earthly  estate,  to  which  our  pedigree  is  our  title.  And,  really, 
what  is  called  succession,  is  exactly  a  pedigree,  and  nothing  better ;  like 
natural  descent,  it  conveys  no  moral  nobleness, — nay,  far  less  than  natural 
descent ;  for  I  am  a  believer  in  some  transmitted  virtue  in  a  good  breed,  but 
the  Succession  notoriously  conveys  none.  So  that  to  lay  a  stress  upon  it,  is 
to  make  the  Christian  Church  worse,  I  think,  than  the  Jewish  :  but  the  sons 


294  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

of  God  are  not  to  be  born  of  bloods,  (i.  e.  of  particular  races,)  nor  of  the 
will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man,  (i.  e.  after  any  human  desire  to 
make  out  an  outward  and  formal  title  of  inheritance,)  but  of  God,  (i.  e.  of 
Him  who  can  alone  give  the  only  true  title  to  his  inheritance, — the  being 
conformed  unto  the  image  of  His  Son.)  I  have  written  all  this  in  haste  as 
to  the  expression,  but  not  at  all  in  haste  as  to  the  matter  of  it.  But  the  simple 
point  is  this :  Does  our  Lord,  or  do  His  Apostles,  encourage  the  notion  of 
salvation  through  the  Church  ?  or  would  any  human  being  ever  collect  such 
a  notion  from  the  Scriptures  ?  Once  begin  with  tradition,  and  the  so-called 
Fathers,  .and  you  get,  no  doubt,  a  very  different  view.  This  the  Romanists 
and  the  Oxfordists  say  is  a  view  required  to  modify  and  add  to  that  of  the 
Scripture.  I  believe  that  because  it  does  modify,  add  to,  and  wholly  alter 
the  view  of  the  Scripture,  that  therefore  it  is  altogether  false  and  anti- 
christian. 


CLIII.      TO    J.    C.    PLATT,    ESQ. 

Fox  How,  February  4,  1837. 

I  have  to  thank  you  for  your  letter,  as  well  as  for  the  papers  which  you 

have  from  time  to  time  been  kind  enough  to  send  me I  do  not 

think  that  I  am  less  zealous  than  formerly ;  but  I  feel  that,  if  I  write  briefly, 
and  without  giving  all  the  grounds  of  my  opinions,  I  am  constantly  misun- 
derstood :  and  to  give  the  grounds,  requires  a  volume,  rather  than  half  a 
column  in  the  newspaper.  For  instance,  on  this  very  question  of  Church 
Rates,  how  much  really  is  involved  in  it?  If  the  Churches  are  public  build- 
ings for  a  national  object,  then  how  can  a  minority  object  to  maintaining  them  ? 
If  they  are  only  to  be  maintained  by  those  who  belong  to  one  religious  deno- 
mination, it  strikes,  of  course,  at  the  very  root  of  any  Establishment,  because 
the  same  principle  must  apply  equally  to  tithes.  I  am  sure  that,  sooner  or 
later,  what  I  said  in  the  Church  Reform  Pamphlet  will  be  verified ;  either 
the  Church  must  be  more  comprehensive,  or,  if  this  be  impracticable,  then  an 
Establishment  cannot  be  maintained :  and  the  next  best  thing  will  be,  to  take 
care  that  all  the  Church  property  is  applied  to  strictly  public  purposes,  to 
schools,  hospitals,  alms-houses,  or  something  of  the  sort,  and  that  it  is  not 
stolen  by  the  landlords.  For  the  only  possible  way  in  which  there  can  be  a 
robbery  of  public  property,  is  to  transfer  it  to  private  uses:  this  is  a  direct 
robbery,  committed  against  ourselves  and  our  posterity ;  but  in  varying  the 
particular  public  object  to  which  it  is  applied,  there  maybe  great  folly,  great 
wickedness  in  the  sight  of  God,  but  not  the  especial  crime  of  robbery  or 
spoliation. 

Your  mention  of  the  Article  on  the  life  of  Christ,  encourages  me  to  allude 
to  it.  I  heard  it  spoken  of  before  I  had  the  least  idea  of  its  author,  and 
spoken  of  with  regret,  not  as  unorthodox,  but  as  painful  to  a  Christain  reader 
from  its  purely  historical  tone.  Now  I  think  that  this  is  a  reasonable  source  of 
pain,  supposing  the  fact  to  be  as  stated ;  because,  in  such  a  case,  neutrality 
is  almost  the  same  as  hostility.  To  read  an  account  of  Christ,  written  as 
by  an  indifferent  person,  is  to  read  an  unchristian  account  of  Him ;  because 
no  one  who  acknowledges  Him  can  be  indifferent  to  Him,  but  stands  in  such 
relations  to  Him,  that  the  highest  reverence  must  ever  be  predominant  in  his 
mind  when  thinking  or  writing  of  Him.  And  again.whatis  the  impartiality 
that  is  required  ?  Is  it  that  a  man  shall  neither  be  a  Christian,  nor  yet  not  a 
Christian  ?  The  fact  is,  that  religious  veneration  is  inconsistent  with  what  is 
called  impartiality ;  which  means,  that  as  you  see  some  good  and  some  evil  on 
both  sides,  you  identify  yourself  with  neither,  and  are  able  to  judge  of  both. 
And  this  holds  good  with  all  human  parties  and  characters,  but  not  with 
what  is  divine,  and  consequently  perfect ;  for  then  we  should  identify  ourselves 
with  it,  and  are  perfectly  incapable  of  passing  judgment  upon  it.1     If  I  think 

1  On  similar  grounds  he  had  a  strong  feeling  against  Goethe.     "  That  one  word  at  the 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


295 


that  Christ  was  no  more  than  Socrates,  (I  do  not  mean  in  degree,  but  in 
kind,)  I  can  of  course  speak  of  Him  impartially;  that  is,  I  assume  at  once, 
that  there  are  faults  and  imperfections  in  His  character,  and  on  these  I  pass 
my  judgment:  but,  if  I  believe  in  Him,  I  am  not  His  judge,  but  His  servant 
and  creature ;  and  He  claims  the  devotion  of  my  whole  nature,  because  He 
is  identical  with  goodness,  wisdom,  and  holiness.  Nor  can  I  for  the  sake  of 
strangers  assume  another  feeling,  and  another  language,  because  this  is 
compromising  the  highest  duty, — it  is  like  denying  Him,  instead  of  confessing 
Him.  This  all  passed  through  my  mind  when  I  heard  that  the  Article  was 
written  in  a  purely  historical  tone,  and  yet  stated  the  Resurrection  as  a 
matter  of  fact.  Now,  if  the  Resurrection  be  true,  Christianity  surely  is  true : 
and  then  how  can  one  think  of  Christ  except  religiously  ?  A  very  able  and 
good  friend  of  mine,  made  the  same  objection  to  Victor  Cousin's  tone  :  "  It 
was,"  he  said,  "  a  patronizing  of  Christianity ;"  that  is,  he  spoke  of  it  as  one 
who  could  judge  it,  and  looked  upon  it,  as  it  were,  de  loco  superiori, — a 
condition  inconsistent  altogether  with  the  relations  of  man  to  God,  when 
once  acknowledged.  Will  you  forgive  me  for  all  this, — but  there  seems  to 
me  rather  a  vague  notion  prevalent  about  impartiality  and  fair  judgment  in 
some  matters  of  religion,  which  is  really  running  into  skepticism  as  to  all. 
There  is  abundant  room  for  impartiality  in  judging  of  religious  men,  and  of 
men's  opinions  about  religion,  just  as  of  their  opinions  about  any  thing  else  ; 
but  with  regard  to  God  and  His  truth,  impartiality  is  a  mere  contradiction ; 
and,  if  we  profess  to  be  impartial  about  all  things,  it  can  only  be  that  we 
acknowledge  in  none  that  mark  of  divinity  which  claims  devout  adherence, 
and  with  regard  to  which  impartiality  is  profaneness. 


CLIV.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Fox  How,  February  5, 1837. 

I  must  write  to  you  from  Fox  How,  though  it  is  our  last  evening ;  and 
to-morrow  we  set  out  to  return  to  Rugby.  We  have  been  here  just  six 
weeks;  and  six  weeks  of  greater  peace  and  happiness  it  would  scarcely  be 
possible,  I  suppose,  for  any  one  to  pass.  In  this  neighbourhood  there  has 
been  as  yet  no  influenza  ;  no  snow  at  any  time  to  obstruct  communication  ; 
no  rains  to  keep  us  within  doors,  nothing  more  than  the  ordinary  varieties  of 
winter,  containing  among  them  days  of  such  surpassing  beauty,  that  at  no 
time  of  the  year  could  the  country  have  been  more  enjoyable.  You  know 
the  view  from  the  dining  room  ;  it  was  only  a  few  mornings  since,  that  the 
clouds  broke  away  from  the  summit  of  Fairfield,  while  we  were  at  breakfast, 
a  little  after  eight  o'clock,  and  the  sun  just  threw  his  light  upon  the  crest  of 
the  mountain  all  covered  with  snow,  and  gave  it  the  rose  colour  which  you 
have  seen  on  the  Alps ;  while  all  the  lower  points  of  the  hills,  and  all  the 
side  of  Loughrigg,  wore  the  infinite  variety  of  their  winter  colouring  of  green 
and  gray  and  gold. 

We  have  had  two  of  our  Sixth  Form  boys  down  here, 

who  I  thought  wanted  the  refreshment  of  a  mountain  country,  as  they  had 
been  working  rather  too  hard.  Meanwhile  my  History  has  been  flourishing  ; 
I  have  been  turning  to  account  all  my  Roman  law  reading,  in  a  chapter  on 
the  Twelve  Tables,  and  I  have  carried  on  the  story  to  the  year  of  Rome  350. 
I  am  inclined  to  publish  one  volume,  when  I  have  got  to  the  end  of  the  year 
365,  the  Gaulish  invasion ;  and  I  shall  have  plenty  of  matter  for  a  volume  r 

end  of  Faust  does  indeed  make  it  to  my  mind  a  great  work  instead  of  a  piece  of  Devilry." 
"Still,"  he  said,  "I  cannot  get  over  the  introduction.  If  it  had  been  by  one  without 
any  relation  to  God  or  his  fellow-creatures,  it  would  be  different — but  in  a  human  being 
it  is  not  to  be  forgiven.  To  give  entirely  without  reverence  a  representation  of  God  is  in 
itself  blasphemous." 


296  LIFE  0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

but  whether  I  am  not  yielding  to  a  movement  of  impatience  I  can  hardly 
say.  The  natural  divisions  of  the  subject  appear  to  me  to  be  the  Gaulish 
Invasion;  the  Conquest  of  Italy,  after  the  repulse  of  Pyrrhus;  the  Conquest 
of  the  World,  or  of  all  that  could  offer  any  effectual  resistance,  in  the  Punic 
and  Macedonian  wars  ;  the  Civil  Wars  from  the  Gracchi  to  Actium ;  the 
Maturity  of  the  Empire  from  Augustus  to  M.  Aurelius  ;  the  Decline  of  the 
Empire  and  of  Paganism  from  Commodus  to  Honorius;  the  chaos  out  of 
which  the  new  creation  of  modern  society  has  come,  from  Alaric  to  Char- 
lemagne. How  grand  a  subject,  if  it  could  be  written  worthily  !  And  how 
vast  a  variety  of  knowledge  is  required  to  do  it  worthily  !  I  constantly  feel 
how  overpowering  the  labour  is,  and  how  many  advantages  I  want ;  yet  I 
feel,  too,  that  I  have  the  love  of  history  so  strong  in  me,  and  that  it  has  been 
working  in  me  so  many  years,  that  I  can  write  something  which  will  be 
read,  and  which  I  trust  will  encourage  the  love  of  all  things  noble  and  just, 
and  wise  and  holy. 

The  study  of  the  Law  is  quite  to  my  heart's  content,  as 

is  the  practice  of  it  in  your  situation.  I  think  if  I  were  asked  what  station 
within  possibility  I  would  choose,  as  the  prize  of  my  son's  well  doing  in  life, 
I  should  say,  the  place  of  an  English  judge.  But  then,  in  proportion  to  my 
reverence  for  the  office  of  a  judge,  is,  to  speak  plainly,  my  abhorrence  of  the 
business  of  an  advocate I  have  been  thinking,  in  much  igno- 
rance, whether  there  is  any  path  to  the  bench  except  by  the  bar  ;  that  is, 
whether  in  conveyancing,  or  in  any  other  branch  of  the  profession,  a  man 
may  make  his  real  knowledge  available,  like  the  juris  consulti  of  ancient 
Rome,  without  that  painful  necessity  of  being  retained  by  an  attorney  to 
maintain  a  certain  cause,  and  of  knowingly  suppressing  truth,  for  so  it  must 
sometimes  happen,  in  order  to  advance  your  own  argument.  I  am  well 
aware  of  the  common  arguments  in  defence  of  the  practice  :  still  it  is  not 
what  I  can  myself  like.  On  the  other  hand,  Medicine,  in  all  its  branches,  I 
honour  as  the  most  beneficent  of  all  professions ;  but  there  I  dread  an  inci- 
dental evil, — the  intense  moral  and  religious  degradation  of  so  many  medical 
students,  who  are,  if  you  may  trust  report,  materialist  atheists  of  the  greatest 
personal  profligacy ;  and  then  if  the  profligacy  wear  out  with  age,  the  evil 
principle  will  not;  and  Satan  will  be  but  cast  out  by  Satan 

We  are  going  to  Oxford,  I  believe,  before  we  finally  settle  at  Rugby. 
I  do  love  the  place  after  all,  though  I  sometimes  think  of  the  fox's  exclama- 
tion over  the  vizor  mask — xdlov  nQoamnov,  a.  t.  L  Forgive  my  profaneness 
to  Alma  Mater,  and  do  not  ascribe  it  to  any  academical  jealousy  in  behalf 
of  my  new  University  of  London,  of  which  I  am  a  most  poor  fellow. 


CLV.      TO  THE    REV.    G.     CORNISH. 

Fox  How,  February  5,  1837. 

Even  the  bustle  at  Fox  How  is  calmer  than  the  quiet  of  Rugby.  We 
are  going  away  to-morrow  morning,  and  it  is  now  past  ten  o'clock  ;  yet  I 
know  not  when  I  can  sit  down  to  write  so  peacefully,  as  I  can  in  this  last 
hour  of  our  last  day's  sojourn  at  this  most  dear  and  most  beautiful  home. 
Thank  you  very  much  for  your  letter.  I  will  not  revive  matters  of  dispute ; 
what,  if  spoken,  would  be  known  at  once  to  be  half  in  joke,  seems  in  writing 
to  be  all  meant  in  sober  earnest ;  and  therefore  our  discussions  shall  wait 
till  that  day,  which,  I  trust,  will  yet  arrive,  when  we  may  again  meet,  and 
introduce  some  of  our  children  to  each  other.  A  life  of  peace  is  one  of  the 
things  which  I  vainly  sigh  after.  If  you  can  live  out  of  the  reach  of  con- 
troversy and  party,  it  is  a  great  gain.  So  a  quiet,  country  parish  is  a  far 
more  attractive  thing  than  the  care  of  a  great  manufacturing  town ;  but 
my  lot,  and,  I  believe,  my  duty  have  thrown  me,  as  it  were,  into  the  manu- 
facturing town ;  and  I  must  contend  for  what  I  earnestly  believe  to   be 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  297 

truth.  Do  you  suppose  that  I  could  not  resign  myself  with  delight  to  the 
quiet  of  this  valley,  and  the  peace  of  these  mountains,  if  so  it  might  he  1 
And  we  have  been  enjoying  it  for  the  last  six  weeks  thoroughly.  The  cli- 
mate has  been  better  than  in  almost  any  part  of  England.  We  had  no 
snow  here  to  stop  communication  for  half  an  hour  ;  and  since  the  snow  went 
away  from  all  but  the  mountain  tops,  the  colouring  of  the  country  has  been 
delicious.  We  have  had  our  full  share  of  walking  ;  whilst  all  the  morning, 
till  one  o'clock,  I  used  to  sit  in  one  corner  of  the  drawing-room,  not  looking 
towards  Fairfield,  lest  I  should  be  constantly  tempted  from  my  work,  and 
there  I  worked  on  at  the  Roman  History  and  the  Twelve  Tables,  and  Ap- 
pius  Claudius,  and  Cincinnatus,  and  all  the  rest  of  them. 

My  wife,  thank  God,  has  been  wonderfully  well  and  strong,  and  climbs 
the  mountains  with  the  rest  of  us.  And  little  Fan,  who  was  three  years  old 
in  October,  went  over  Loughrigg  with  us  to  Rydal  the  other  day — though 
her  little  feet  looked  quite  absurd  upon  the  rough  mountain  side,  and  the 
fern-stalks  annoyed  her,  as  Gulliver  was  puzzled  by  the  Brobdignag  corn- 
field  

We  were,  in  the  course  of  the  summer,  in  the  Isle  of  Man,  and  in  Ire- 
land. I  admired  Dublin  and  its  bay,  and  the  Wicklow  Sugar  Loaf,  and  the 
blue  sea  of  Killiney  Bay.  But  to  my  astonishment,  the  "  Emerald  Isle  " 
was  a  very  parched  and  dusty  isle  in  comparison  with  Westmoreland,  and 
the  Three  Rock  Mountain,  though  beautiful  with  its  granite^  rocks  and 
heath,  had  none  of  the  thousand  springs  of  our  Loughrigg.  Of  the  people 
I  saw  little  or  nothing. 

We  expect  to  be  in  Oxford  one  day  this  week,  before  we  settle  at  Rugby 
for  our  long  half-year.  I  wonder  whether  I  could  find  your  tree  in  Bagley 
Wood,  on  which  you  once  sat  exalted.  Do  you  ever  see  or  hear  of  old  Dy- 
son, or  of  Ellison ;  or  do  you  hear  from  Tucker  ?  Coleridge,  as  you  per- 
haps know,  was  a  month  at  this  house  in  the  summer  with  all  his  family ; — 
then,  on  their  way  to  town,  they  came  to  us  at  Rugby,  and  there  met  Pro- 
fessor Buckland  ;  so  that,  after  an  interval  of  many  years,  I  was  again  one 
of  an  old  Corpus  trio.  It  is  eleven  o'clock,  and  we  are  oft' at  eight  to-morrow, 
so  good  night. 


CLVI.       TO    THE   REV.    J.    HEARN'. 

Yarrow  Bridge,  Chorley,  Feb.  6,  1837. 

I  call  all  this  Judaizing  a  direct  idolatry, — it  is  exalting 

the  Church  and  the  Sacraments  into  the  place  of  Christ,  as  others  have 
exalted  His  mother,  and  others  in  the  same  spirit  exalted  circumcision. 
There  is  something  almost  ludicrous,  if  the  matter  were  not  too  serious,  in 
the  way  in  which speaks  of  Calvin  and 'the  best  and  ablest  of  his  fol- 
lowers, and  some  of  the  great  living  writers  of  Germany,  whom  he  must 
know,  as  of  men  labouring  under  judicial  blindness.  "  This  people  who 
knoweth  not  the  laAV,"  i.  e.  as  interpreted  by  the  tradition  and  doctors  of  the 
Church,  "  are  accursed."  It  is  vain  to  argue  with  such  men,  only  when  they 
ascribe  a  judicial  blindness  to  Calvin  and  Zuingle,  or  to  Tholuck,  Nitzsch, 
and  Bunsen,  one  cannot  but  be  reminded  of  those  who  "  with  lies  made  the 
heart  of  the  righteous  sad,  whom  God  had  not  made  sad,"  or  of  those  who 
denied  St.  Paul's  apostleship  and  spirituality,  because  he.  was  not  one  of 
the  original  twelve  Apostles,  and  because  he  would  not  preach  circumcision. 

No  man  doubts  that  a  strictly  universal  consent  would  be  a  very  strong 
argument  indeed;  but  then  by  the  very  fact  of  its  being  disputed,  it  ceases 
to  be  universal ;  and  general  consent  is  a  very  different  thing  from  universal. 
It  becomes,  then,  the  consent  of  the  majority;  and  we  must  examine  the 
nature  of  the  minority,  and  also  the  peculiar  nature  of  the  opinions  or 
practices  agreed  in,  before  we  can  decide  whether  general  consent  be  realty 
an  argument  for  or  against  the  truth  of  an  opinion.       For  it  has  been  said, 

20 


298  L1FE   0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

"  Woe  unto  you  when  all  men  shall  speak  well  of  you ;"  and  then  it  would 
be  equally  true  of"  such  a  generation  or  generations,  that  it  was,  "  Woe  to 
that  opinion  in  which  all  men  agree." 

Now  I  believe  that  the  Apostle's  Creed  may  be  taken  as  a  specimen  of 
truths  held  by  the  general  consent  of  Christians  ;  for  every  tiling  there  (ex- 
cept the  descent  into  Hell,  which  was  a  later  insertion)  is  in  almost  the  very 
words  of  Scripture.  It  is  just  like  St.  Paul's  short  creed  in  1  Corinthians, 
xv. :  "  I  delivered  unto  you  that  which  I  also  received,  how  that  Christ  died 
for  our  sins  according  to  the  Scriptures,  and  was  buried,"  &c.     But  this 

Creed  will  no  more  suit 's  turn  than  the  Scriptures  themselves  will.     1 1 

says  not  a  word  of  priesthood  or  succession, — it  does  not  even  say  a  word  of 

either  Sacrament.      The  points  for  which needs  the  consent    of  the 

Church,  are  points  on  which  the  principal  ecclesiastical  writers,  from  whom 
he  gleans  this  consent,  had  all  a  manifest  bias ;  partly  from  their  own  posi- 
tion as  ministers,  and  partly  from  the  superstitious  tendencies  of  their  age. 
And  after  all  how  few  are  these  writers !  Who  would  think  of  making  out 
the  universal  consent  of  the  Christian  world  from  the  language  of  ten  or  a 
dozen  bishops  or  clergy  who  happened  to  be  writers?  Who  will  bear  wit- 
ness to  the  opinions  of  the  Bithynian  Church,  of  whose  practice  Pliny  has 
left  so  beautiful  a  picture  ?  Or  who  would  value  for  any  Church,  or  for  any 
opinion,  the  testimony  of  such  a  man  as  Tertullian  ?  But,  after  all,  consent 
would  go  for  nothing  where  it  is  so  clearly  against  Scripture.  All  in  Asia 
were  turned  away  from  Paul  even  in  his  lifetime.  [No  wonder]  then,  if  af- 
ter his  death  they  could  not  bear  his  doctrines,  and  undermined  them  while 
they  were  obliged  outwardly  to  honour  [them].  The  operation  of  material 
agency  to  produce  a  spiritual  effect  [is  not]  more  opposed  to  reason  than  it 
is  directly  denied  by  our  Lord,  on  grounds  which would  call  rationalis- 
tic, if  I  were  to  use  them.  I  refer  to  what  He  says  of  the  impossibility  of 
meat  defiling  a  man,  or  water  purifying  him ;  and  the  reason  assigned  to 
show  that  meat  cannot  morally  defile  is  of  course  equally  valid  to  show  that 
it  cannot  morally  strengthen  or  cleanse.  I  believe  it  might  be  shown 
that  the  efficacy  of  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  has  Keen  weakened 
directly  by  the  superstitions  about  it ;  that  in  proportion  as  a  value  was 
attached  to  the  elements,  as  they  were  called,  so  the  real  Christian  Sacra- 
mentum, — each  man  pledging  himself  to  Christ  and  to  his  brethren,  upon 
the  symbols  of  his  redemption  and  sanctification, — became  less  and  less  re- 
garded ;  whilst  superstitions  made  the  Sacrament  less  frequent,  and  thus 
have  inflicted  a  grievous  injury  on  the  spiritual  state  of  every  Church. 


CLVII.       TO    W.    W.    HULL,   ESQ. 

Bugby,  March  3,  1837. 

About  the  grammars,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  the  com- 
mon Eton  grammars,  purged  of  their  manifest  faults,  would  answer  better 
than  any  thing  else.  I  am  more  and  more  in  favour  of  a  Latin  rather  than 
an  English  Grammar,  and  I  think  that  the  simpler  and  the  more  dogmatical 
the  rules  are,  the  better.  That  is  best  in  a  boy's  grammar  which  can  be 
easiest  remembered,  and  understood  enough  to  be  applied  practically ;  the 
explanation  of  the  principles  of  grammar  belongs  to  a  more  advanced  age. 

By  "  manifest  faults,"  I  mean  such  as  calling  "  hie,  heec,  hoc,"  an  article  ; 
or  teaching  boys  to  believe  that  there  is  such  a  word  as  irvnov,  or  such  an 
Aorist  to  Uym  as  tfoyov,  and  other  monstrosities.  And  I  think  such  corrections 
might  be  made  easily.  But  let  us  save  "  Verba  dandi  et  reddendi,"  &c, 
and,  if  I  dared,  I  would  put  in  a  word  for  "  As  in  prsesenti,"  perhaps  even 
for  "Propria  quae  maribus."  Is  not  this  a  laudable  specimen  of  Toryism? 
Or  is  it  that  we  are  Reformers  in  our  neighbours'  trade  and  Conservatives  in 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD  299 


CLVIII.       TO    CRABBE    ROBINSON,    ESQ. 

(Who  had  written  to  him  fearing  he  would  not  continue  in  the  new  University  unless  more  were  done 
in  the  examinations  as  to  Theology,  than  could  or  would  be  effected.) 

March  15,  1837. 

First,  be  assured  that  I  will  do  nothing  hastily,  that  I 

wish  most  earnestly  well  to  the  London  University,  and  look  upon  it  as  so 
great  a  possible  means  of  good,  that  nothing  but  what  will  appear  to  me  im- 
perious duty  shall  tempt  me  to  leave  it.  Neither  have  I  the  least  thought 
or  wish  of  conciliating  the  Tories ;  on  the  contrary,  I  regret  nothing  so  much 
as  the  possibility  of  appearing  to  agree  with  them  in  any  thing ;  neither  in 
fact,  can  I  believe  that  I  ever  shall  be  so  far  mistaken. 

Secondly,  I  have  no  wish  to  have  Degrees  in  Divinity  conferred  by  the 
London  University  or  to  have  a  Theological  Faculty ;  1  am  quite  content 
with  Degrees  in  Arts.     But  then  let  us  understand  what  Arts  are. 

li'Arls  mean  merely  logic,  or  grammar,  or  arithmetic, or  natural  science, 
then  of  course  a  degree  in  Arts  implies  nothing  whatever  as  to  a  man's 
moral  judgment  or  principles.  But  open  the  definition  a  little  farther, — in- 
clude poetry  or  history  or  moral  philosophy, — and  you  encroach  unavoida- 
bly on  the  domain  of  moral  education;  and  moral  education  cannot  be  sepa- 
rated from  religious  education,  unless  people  have  the  old  superstitious  no- 
tion of  religion,  either  that  it  relates  to  rites  and  ceremonies,  or  to  certain 
abstract  and  unpractical  truths.  But,  meaning  by  Religion  what  the  Gos- 
pel teaches  one  to  mean  by  it,  it  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  system  di- 
recting and  influencing  our  conduct,  principles,  and  feelings,  and  professing 
to  do  this  with  sovereign  authority,  and  most  efficacious  influence.  If  then 
I  enter  on  the  domain  of  moral  knowledge,  I  am  thereby  on  the  domain  of 
religious  knowledge ;  and  the  only  question  is,  what  religion  am  I  to  follow  1 
If  I  take  no  notice  of  the  authority  and  influences  of  Christianity,  I  unavoid- 
ably take  a  view  of  man's  life  and  principles  from  which  they  are  excluded, 
that  is,  a  view  which  acknowledges  some  other  authority  and  influence, — it 
may  be  of  some  other  religion,  or  of  some  philosophy,  or  of  mere  common 
opinion  or  instinct ; — but,  in  any  case,  I  have  one  of  the  many  views- of  life 
and  conduct,  which  it  was  the  very  purpose  of  Christ's  coming  into  the 
world  to  exclude.  And  how  can  any  Christian  man  lend  himself  to  the  pro- 
pagating or  sanctioning  a  system  of  moral  knowledge  which  assumes  that 
Christ's  law  is  not  our  rule,  nor  His  promises  our  motive  of  action  ?  This, 
then,  is  my  principle,  that  moral  studies  not  based  on  Christianity  must  be 
unchristian,  and  therefore  are  such  as  I  can  take  no  part  in. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  allow  as  fully  as  you  can  do,  that  the  University 
should  include  Christians  of  every  denomination  without  the  slightest  dis- 
tinction. The  differences  between  Christian  and  Christian  are  not  moral 
differences,  except  accidentally;  and  that  is 'what  1  meant  in  that  passage 
in  the  Church  Reform  Pamphlet  which  you,  in  common  with  many  others, 
have  taken  in  a  sense  which  I  should  wholly  disclaim.  An  Unitarian,  as 
such,  is  a  Christian  ;  that  is,  if  a  man  follows  Christ's  law,  and  believes  His 
words  according  to  his  conscientious  sense  of  their  meaning,  he  is  a  Chris- 
tian ;  and,  though  I  may  think  he  understands  Christ's  words  amiss,  yet 
that  is  a  question  of  interpretation,  and  no  more  ;  the  purpose  of  his  heart 
and  mind  is  to  obey  and  be  guided  by  Christ,  and  therefore  he  is  a  Chris- 
tian. But  I  believe, — if  I  err  as  to  the  matter  of  fact  I  shall  greatly  rejoice, 
— that  Unitarianism  happens  to  contain  many  persons  who  are  only  Unita- 
rians negatively,  as  not  being  Trinitarians ;  and  I  question  whether  these 
follow  Christ  with  enough  of  sincerity  and  obedience  to  entitle  them  to  be 
called  Christians. 

Then  comes  the  question  of  practicability.  Here  undoubtedly  I  am  met 
at  a  disadvantage,  because  the  whole  tendency  of  the  last  century,  and  of 
men's  minds  now,  is  to  shun  all  notions  of  comprehension ;  and  as  the  knot 
was  once  cut  by  persecution,  so  it  is  to  be  cut  now  by  toleration  and  omission. 


300  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

But  it  is  an  experiment  undoubtedly  worth  trying,  whether  for  the  sake 
of  upholding  the  Christian  character  of  our  University,  we  ought  not  to  ven- 
ture on  ground,  new  indeed  in  England,  just  at  present,  but  which  is  of  the 
very  essence  of  true  Christianity.  With  all  Christians  except  Roman  Cath- 
olics the  course  is  plain,  namely,  to  examine  every  candidate  for  a  degree 
in  one  of  the  Gospels  and  one  of  the  Epistles  out  of  the  Greek  Testament. 
I  would  ask  of  every  man  the  previous  question,  "  To  what  denomination  of 
Christians  do  you  belong  1 "  and  according  to  his  answer,  I  would  specially 
avoid  touching  on  those  points,  on  which  I  as  a  Churchman  differed  from 
him.  I  should  probably  say  to  him  aloud,  if  the  examination  were  public, 
"  Now  I  know  that  you  and  I  differ  on  such  and  such  points,  and  therefore  I 
shall  not  touch  on  them ;  but  we  have  a  great  deal  more  on  which  we 
agree,  and  therefore  I  may  ask  you  so  and  so."  With  the  Roman  Catho- 
lics there  might  be  a  difficulty,  because  they  might  possibly  object  to  being 
examined  by  heretics,  or  in  the  Scriptures ;  but  if  so,  where  would  be  the 
difficulty  of  adding  a  Catholic  to  the  number  of  Fellows,  on  purpose  for  this 
object ;  or  where  would  be  the  difficulty  of  requiring  from  the  candidate,  be- 
ing a  Catholic,  a  certificate  of  proficiency  in  religious  knowledge  from  his 
own  Priest  or  Bishop  ?  What  you  state  about  doctrines  might  be  a  very 
o-ood  argument  against  examining  in  any  Articles  or  Creeds,  but  would  not 
affect  the  examination  in  a  book  or  books  of  the  Scripture ;  and  so  again 
with  evidences,  I  should  not  care  about  this ;  though  neither  do  I  see  that 
your  reference  to  Chalmers  makes  a  valid  objection  ;  because  you  will  and 
must  have  Examiners  who  differ  on  fifty  points  of  taste,  of  politics,  and  of 
philosophy ;  but  this  signifies  nothing,  as  long  as  they  are  sensible  men ; 
and,  if  they  are  not,  the  whole  thing  must  break  down  any  way.  But  the 
comparative  value  of  external  and  internal  Evidence  is  not  a  point  which 
forms  the  characteristic  difference  between  any  one  sect  and  another ;  it 
may  therefore  be  noticed  without  any  delicacy,  just  like  any  moot  point  in 
history  ;  and  an  Examiner  may  express  his  judgment  on  it.  though  of  course 
with  such  reserve  and  moderation  as  he  may  think  fit.  If  you  say  that  all 
points  which  have  ever  been  disputed  are  to  be  avoided,  you  reduce  your  ex- 
aminers to  such  mere  ciphers  as  would  deprive  them'  of  all  weight  and  dig- 
nity. Certainly  I  shall  feel  myself  as  in  a  certain  degree  appointed  to  mode- 
rate and  form  the  minds  of  those  who  come  to  me  for  academical  honours,  i 
ouo-ht  to  express  my  judgment  on  many  matters  as  that  of  a  man  qualified 
to  instruct  them,  and  as  entitled  to  an  authority  with  them.  You  will  not 
suppose  I  mean  an  infallible  authority.  If  our  office  be  not  intended  to  be 
this,  it  will  be  a  great  mistake,  and  indeed  a  total  solecism,  as  far  as  regards- 
education.  I  am  perfectly  aware  of  the  delicacy  of  our  task  as  well  as  of  its 
importance,  and  I  think  I  would  undertake  to  manage  it  discreetly;  but 
much  must  be  left  to  us.  Let  them  choose  the  best  men  they  can  find,  and 
then  let  them  trust  them  fully,  and  turn  them  out  if  they  do  not  like  them. 


(.LIX.       TO    SIR    THOMAS    S.    PAULEY.    BART. 

Rugby,  April  21,  1337. 

Our  one.  day's  visit  to  Oxford  was  very  delightful;  it  was  full 

of  kindlinesses  without  any  thing  of  a  contrary  sort ;  and  it  made  me  wish 
that  I  could  see  the  place  and  its  residents  oftener.  I  am  so  thoroughly 
fond  of  it  that  I  can  quite  trust  myself  in  my  earnest  desire  to  see  it  reform- 
ed •  indeed  I  should  care  about  its  reform  much  less  if  I  did  not  value  it  so 

highly.     From  Oxford  we  came  back  to  our  work  as  usual From 

that  time  forward  we  have  never  been  quite  alone,  and  we  are  expecting 
other  friends  in  May  and  June,  so  that  our  half-year  will,  as  usual,  I  suppose, 
end  in  a  crowd ;  and  then  I  trust  we  may  meet  in  something  like  summer  in 
Westmoreland,  and  find  you  established  in  your  house,  and  enjoying  the 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  3Q1 

magnificence  of  the  view  and  the  snugness  of  that  delicious  glady  field  be- 
hind, which  lives  most  vividly  in  my  memory 

1  have  read  nothing  but  books  connected  with  my  own  business,  so  I  am 
sadly  ignorant  of  what  is  doing  in  the  publishing  world.  Jacob  Abbott's  last 
work,  "  The  Way  to  do  Good,"  will  I  think  please  you  very  much  ;  with 
some  Americanisms,  not  of  language  but  of  mind,  it  is  yet  delightful  to  read 
a  book  so  good  and  so  sensible;  so  zealous  for  what  is  valuable ;  so  fair 
about  what  is  indifferent.  I  have  also  looked  through  some  of  the  Duke  of 
-  Wellington's  Dispatches.  He  is  different  enough  certainly  from  Abbott,  but 
the  work  gives  one  a  favourable  impression  of  him  morally,  I  think,  as  well 
as  intellectually:1  there  is  a  frankness  and  kindliness  about  his  letters  gene- 
rally which  is  very  attractive,  and  one  admires  the  activity  and  comprehen- 
siveness of  view  which  could  take  in  so  much  and  so  exectate  it.  You  would 
be  interested  in  Sir  E.  Codrington's  strange  attack  upon  Sir  Pulteney  Mal- 
colm, and  gratified  by  the  strong  feeling  generally  expressed  in  Sir  Pulte- 
ney's  favour,  and  in  admiration  of  his  character 

I  shall  like  to  hear  your  remarks  on  the  weather.  I  never  remember  any 
thing  to  equal  it ;  but  I  find  from  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  that  1799  was 
very  nearly  as  bad.  and  from  Evelyn's  Memoirs  that  1658  was  rather  worse. 
The  wind  was  northerly  for  nearly  six  months,  and  on  the  second  of  June, 
old  style,  the  season  was  as  cold  as  winter.  It  is  certainly  so  at  present; 
and  what  is  remarkable  is,  that  the  wind  blows  equally  cold  from  all  points 
of  the  compass.  I  connect  the  constant  north-west  winds  with  the  Magnetic 
Pole,  and  as  all  phenomena  of  weather  have  to  do  with  electricity  and 
volcanic  action,  I  should  not  be  surprised  to  hear  of  something  extraordinary 
in  the  way  of  earthquakes  or  eruptions  before  the  end  of  the  year.  This  is 
a  sad  dull  letter,  but  my  life  affords  but.  little  variety. 


CLX.       TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.       (C.) 

Rugby,  April  5,  1837. 

I  take  this  opportunity  to  answer  your  kind  and  interesting  letter,  for 
which  I  beg  you  to  accept  my  best  thanks.  I  can  hardly  answer  it  as  I 
could  wish,  but  I  do  not  like  to  delay  writing  to  you  any  longer.  Your  ac- 
count of  yourself  and  of  that  unhealthy  state  of  body  and  mind  under  which 
you  have  been  labouring,  was  very  touching  to  me.  I  rejoice  that  you  were 
recovering  from  it,  but  still  you  must  not  be  surprised  if  God  should  be 
pleased  to  continue  your  trials  for  some  time  longer.  It  is  to  me  a  matter 
of  the  deepest  thankfulness,  that  the  fears,  which  I  at  one  time  had  expressed 
to  you  about  yourself,  have  been  so  entirely  groundless  :  we  have  the  com- 
fort of  thinking  that,  with  the  heart  once  turned  to  God,  and  going  on  in  His 
faith  and  fear,  nothing  can  go  very  wrong  with  us,  although  we  may  have 
much  to  suffer  and  many  trials  to  undergo.  I  rejoice  too  that  your  mind 
seems  to  be  in  a  healthier  state  about  the  prosecution  of  your  studies.  I  am 
quite  sure  that  it  is  a  most  solemn  duty  to  cultivate  our  understandings  to 
the  uttermost,  for  I  have  seen  the  evil  moral  consequences  of  fanaticism  to 
a  greater  degree  than  I  ever  expected  to  see  them  realized ;  and  I  am  satis- 
fied that  a  neglected  intellect  is  far  oftener  the  cause  of  mischief  to  a  man, 
than  a  perverted  or  over-valued  one.  Men  retain  their  natural  quickness 
and  cleverness,  while  their  reason  and  judgment  are  allowed  to  go  to  ruin, 
and  thus  they  do  work  their  minds  and  gain  influence,  and  are  pleased  at 
gaining  it ;  but  it  is  the  undisciplined  mind  which  they  are  exercising,  in- 
stead of  one  wisely  disciplined.     I  trust  that  you  will  gain  a  good  foundation 

1  His  impression  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  character  was  in  fact  considerably 
raised  by  this  work,  and  a  volume  of  the  Dispatches  was  one  of  the  books  which  most 
frequently  accompanied  him  when  travelling. 


302  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

of  wisdom  in  Oxford,  which  may  minister  in  after  years  to  God's  glory  and 
the  good  of  souls;  and  I  call  by  the  name  of  wisdom, — knowledge,  rich  and 
varied,  digested  and  combined,  and  pervaded  through  and  through  by  the 
light  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  Remember  the  words,  "Every  scribe  instructed 
to  the  kingdom  of  God  is  like  unto  a  householder,  who  bringeth  out  of  his 
treasure  things  new  and  old  ;"  that  is,  who  does  not  think  that  either  the 
four  first  centuries  on  the  one  hand,  nor  the  nineteenth  century  on  the  other, 
have  a  monopoly  of  truth  ;  but  who  combines  a  knowledge  of  one  with  that 
of  the  other,  and  judges  all  according  to  the  judgment  which  he  has  gained 
from  the  teaching  of  the  Scriptures.  I  am  obliged  to  write  more  shortly 
than  I  could  wish  ;  let  me  hear  from  you  when  you  can,  and  see  you  when 
you  can,  and  be  sure  that,  whether  my  judgments  be  right  or  wrong,  you 
have  no  friend  who  more  earnestly  would  wish  to  assist  you  in  that  only 
narrow  road  to  life  eternal,  which  I  feel  sure  that  you  by  God's  grace  are 
now  treading. 


CLXI.       TO    BISHOP    OTTER. 

Rugby,  April  30,  1837. 

I  venture  to  address  you,  and  I  trust  to  your  forgiveness  for  so  doing,  on 
a  subject  in  which  we  have  a  common  interest,  the  new  University  of  Lon- 
don ;  and  I  am  the  more  induced  to  address  you  particularly,  as  I  understand 
that  you  are  disposed  to  take  an  active  part  in  the  arrangements  to  be 
made  ;  as  you  have  had  practical  experience  in  education  ;  and  as  you  are 
one  of  the  few  members  of  our  profession  who  happen  to  belong  to  the  Uni- 
versity. I  imagine,  also,  that  the  particular  department  with  which  I  am 
likely  to  be  concerned,  will  be  that  in  which  you  too  will  be  most  interested, 
the  Examination  for  Degrees  in  Arts.  And  I  find  that  a  committee  was  to 
be  appointed  yesterday,  to  draw  up  something  of  a  plan  on  this  subject.  I 
hope  to  be  in  town  very  shortly,  but  my  visit  must  necessarily  be  very  brief, 
and  I  feel  that  I  should  much  further  my  views,  if  I  could  explain  them  to 
your  Lordship  beforehand,  and  above  all,  if,  as  I  hope,  I  shall  be  so  happy 
as  to  find  that  you  agree  with  them. 

I  need  not  say  that  I  cordially  agree  with  the  principle  of  the  University 
that  it  recognizes  no  sectarian  distinctions.  But  while  I  fully  allow  this,  I 
also  find  it  expressly  declared  in  our  charter,  that  we  are  founded  for  the 
advancement  of  "  Religion  and  Morality."  And  this  seems  to  lead  to  the 
exact  conclusion  which  I  most  earnestly  approve  of,  that  we  are  to  be  a 
Christian  University,  but  not  a  Romanist  one,  nor  a  Protestant,  neither  ex- 
clusively Church  of  England,  nor  exclusively  dissenting.  "  Religion,"  in 
the  king's  mouth,  can  mean  only  Christianity ;  in  fact,  no  Christian  can  use 
it  in  any  other  sense  without  manifest  inconsistency. — Again,  must  it  not 
follow  that  if  we  enter  at  all  upon  moral  science,  whether  it  be  Moral  Phi- 
losophy or  History,  we  must  be  supposed  to  have  some  definite  notions  of 
moral  truth  1  Now  those  notions  are  not,  I  suppose,  to  be  the  notions  of 
each  individual  Examiner ;  we  must  refer  to  some  standard.  I  suppose  that 
a  man  could  hardly  get  a  degree  in  physical  science  if  he  made  Aristotle's 
Physics  his  standard  of  truth  in  those  matters.  Now  there  are  many  views 
of  moral  truth,  quite  as  false  as  those  of  Aristotle  on  physical  science ;  but 
what  are  we  to  take  for  our  standard  of  truth  ?  We  must,  it  seems  to  roe, 
have  some  standard,  in  whatever  we  profess  to  examine,  and  what  can  that 
standard  be  to  any  Christian,  except  what  he  believes  to  be  God's  revealed 
will  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  we  cannot  recognize  any  other  standard  of  moral 
truth  without  directly  renouncing  Christ  as  our  Master. — Further,  Mr.  Lie- 
ber,  who  wrote  a  little  book  of  his  Reminiscences  of  Niebuhr,  who  is  now 
engaged  in  one  of  the  American  colleges  in  Carolina,  and  has  published 
some  exceedingly  good  papers  on  the  system  there  pursued,  lays  it  down  as 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  393 

a  matter  of  common  sense,  that, — without  entering  into  the  religious  ques- 
tion,— a  knowledge  of  the  Christian  Scriptures  must  form  a  part  of  the 
merely  intellectual  education  of  all  persons  in  Christian  countries.  He  says, 
I  think  most  truly,  that  Christianity  has  so  coloured  all  our  institutions,  and 
all  our  literature,  and  has  in  so  many  points  modified  or  even  dictated  our 
laws,  that  no  one  can  be  considered  as  an  educated  man  who  is  not  acquainted 
with  its  authoritative  documents.  He  considers  that  a  liberal  education 
without  the  Scriptures,  must  be,  in  any  Christian  country,  a  contradiction  in 
terms. 

My  conclusion  is,  that  we  are  bound  in  some  way  or  other  to  recognize 
this  truth.  We  may,  indeed,  give  Degrees  in  Law  and  Medicine,  without 
acknowledging  it;  so  we  may  also  in  physical  science;  so  we  may  also  in 
pure  science  and  philology.  None  of  these  things,  nor  all  of  them  together, 
constitute  education  But  if  we  profess  to  give  Degrees  in  Arts,  we  are  un- 
derstood, I  think,  as  giving  our  testimony  that  a  man  has  received  a  liberal 
education.  And  the  same  result  follows  from  our  examining  on  any  moral 
subject,  such  as  History  or  Moral  Philosophy  ;  because  it  is  precisely  moral 
knowledge,  and  moral  knowledge  only,  which  properly  constitutes  educa- 
tion. 

The  University  of  Bonn, — the  only  one  of  the  Prussian  universities  with 
the  system  of  which  I  happen  to  be  acquainted, — is  open,  as  you  know,  to 
Catholics  and  Protestants  equally.  But  both  have  their  Professors  and 
their  regular  courses  of  religious  instruction.  Now  as  we  do  not  teach  at 
present,  but  only  examine,  and  as  we  confer  no  degrees  in  Theology,  our 
difficulty  will  be  of  a  far  simpler  kind.  It  may  be  met,  I  think,  perfectly 
easily  in  two  or  three  different  manners.  I  suppose  that,  for  any  of  the 
reasons  stated  above,  our  Bachelor  of  Arts'  Degree  must  imply  a  knowledge 
of  the  Christian  Scriptures.  But  then,  as  we  are  not  to  be  sectarian,  neither 
you  and  I  on  the  one  hand,  nor  any  of  our  Dissenting  colleagues  on  the 
other,  have  any  right  to  put  their  own  construction  on  this  term,  "  know- 
ledge of  the  Scriptures."  I  think  that  an  Unitarian  knows  them  very  ill, 
and  he  would  think  the  same  of  us.  But  we  agree  in  attaching  an  equal 
value  to  a  "  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures,"  each  of  us  interpreting  the  phrase 
in  his  own  way. 

I  would  propose,  then,  two  or  three  modes  of  ascertaining  every  candi- 
date's knowledge  of  the  Scriptures,  in  his  own  meaning  of  the  term.  First, 
in  imitation  of  the  University  of  Bonn,  there  might  be  members  of  the 
Senate  of  different  denominations  of  Christians  to  examine  the  members  of 
their  own  communions.  Practically,  this  would  involve  no  great  multitude  ; 
I  doubt  if  it  would  require  more  than  three  divisions,  our  own  Church,  Ro- 
man Catholics,  and  Unitarians.  I  doubt  if  the  orthodox  Dissenters,  as  they 
are  called,  would  have  any  objection  to  be  examined  by  you  or  me  in  such 
books  of  the  New  Testament  as  they  themselves  chose  to  bring  up,  when 
they  were  required  to  subscribe  to  no  Articles  or  Liturgy,  and  were  ex- 
amined as  persons  whose  opinions  on  their  own  peculiar  points  of  difference 
were  not  tolerated  merely,  but  solemnly  recognized ;  so  that  there  would  be 
neither  any  suspicion  of  compromise  on  their  part,  nor  of  attempts  at  pros- 
elytism  on  ours. 

Secondly,  we  might  even  do  less  than  this,  and  merely  require  from  every 
candidate  for  a  Degree  in  Arts,  a  certificate,  signed  by  two  ministers  ofhis  own 
persuasion,  that  he  was  competently  instructed  in  Christian  knowledge  as  un 
derstood  by  the  members  of  their  communion.  This  is  no  more  than  every 
young  person  in  our  own  Church. now  gets,  previously  to  his  Confirmation. 
I  think  this  would  be  a  very  inferior  plan  to  the  former,  inasmuch  as  the 
certificates  might  in  some  cases  be  worth  very  little  ;  but  still  it  completely 
saves  the  principle  recognized  in  our  Charter,  and  indispensable,  I  think,  to 
every  plan  of  education,  or  for  the  ascertaining  of  the  sufficiency  of  any  one's 
education,  in  a  Christian  country, — that  Christian  knowledge  is  a  necessary 
part  of  the  formation  and  cultivation  of  the  mind  of  every  one. 


•304  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

Thirdly,  we  might,  I  am  sure,  do  what  were  best  of  all,  and  which  might 
produce  benefits  in  the  course  of  time,  more  than  could  be  told.  All  Pro- 
testants acknowledge  the  Scriptures  as  their  common  authority,  and  all  desire 
their  children  to  study  them.  Let  every  candidate  for  a  Degree  bring  up  at 
his  own  choice  some  one  Gospel,  and  some  one  Epistle  in  the  Greek  Testa- 
ment. Let  him  declare,  on  coming  before  us,  to  what  communion  he  belongs. 
We  know  what  are  the  peculiar  views  entertained  by  him  as  such,  and  we 
would  respect  them  most  religiously.  But  on  all  common  ground  we  might 
examine  him  thoroughly,  and  how  infinite  would  be  the  good  of  thus  proving, 
by  actual  experience,  how  much  more  our  common  ground  is  than  our  pe- 
culiar ground.  I  am  perfectly  ready  to  examine  to-morrow  in  any  Unita- 
rian school  in  England,  in  presence  of  parents  and  masters.  I  will  not  put  a 
question  that  should  offend,  and  yet  1  will  give  such  an  examination  as  should 
bring  out,  or  prove  the  absence  of  what  you  and  I  should  agree  in  consider- 
ing to  be  Christian  knowledge  of  the  highest  value.  I  speak  as  one  who 
has  been  used  to  examine  young  men  in  the  Scriptures  for  twenty  years 
nearly,  and  I  pledge  myself  to  the  perfect  easiness  of  doing  this.  Our 
examinations,  in  fact,  will  carry  their  own  security  with  them,  if  our  char- 
acters would  not ;  they  will  be  public,  and  we  should  not  and  could  not 
venture  to  proselytize,  even  if  we  wished  it.  But  the  very  circumstance  of 
our  having  joined  the  London  University  at  the  risk  of  much  odium  from  a 
large  part  of  our  profession,  would  be  a  warrant  for  our  entering  into  the 
spirit  uf  the  Charter  with  perfect  sincerity.  .1  have  no  sufficient  apology  to 
offer  for  this  long  intrusion  upon  your  patience,  but  my  overwhelming  sense  of 
the  importance  of  the  subject.  It  depends  wholly,  as  I  think,  on  our  deci- 
sion on  this  point,  whether  our  success  will  be  a  blessing  or  a  curse  to  the 
country.  A  Christian,  and  yet  not  sectarian  University,  would  be  a  bless- 
ing of  no  common  magnitude.  An  University  that  conceived  of  education 
as  not  involving  in  it  the  principles  of  moral  truth,  would  be  an  evil,  I  think, 
no  less  enormous. 


CLXII.       TO    THE    REV.    H.    HILL. 

(In  answer  to  questions  about  Thucydides.) 

Rugby,  May  25, 1837, 

My  experience  about  Thucydides   has  told  me  that  the 

knowledge  required  to  illustrate  him  may  be  taken  at  any  thing  you  please? 
from  Mitford  up  to  omne  scibile.  I  suppose  that  the  most  direct  illustrations 
are  to  be  found  in  Aristophanes,  the  Acharnians,  the  Peace,  the  Birds,  and 
the  Clouds  ;  as  also  in  the  speech  of  Andocides  de  Mysteriis.  For  the 
Greek,  Bekker's  text,  in  his  smaller  edition  of  1832,  and  a  good  Index  Ver- 
borum,  though  bad  is  the  best,  are,  I  think,  the  staple.  You  may  add,  in- 
stead of  a  Lexicon,  Reiske's  Index  Verborum  to  Demosthenes,  and  Mitch- 
ell's to  Plato  and  Isocrates,  with  Schweighauser's  Lexicon  Herodoteum. 
Buttman's  larger  Greek  Grammar  is  the  best  thing  for  the  forms  of  the 
Verbs  ;  as  for  Syntax,  Thucydides,  in  many  places,  is  his  own  law. 

We  talk  about  going  to  Rome,  which  will  be  a  virtuous  effort  if  I  do  go, 
for  my  heart  is  at  Fox  How.  Yet  I  should  love  to  talk  once  again  with 
Bunsen  on  the  Capitol,  and  to  expatiate  with  him  on  the  green  upland  plain 
of  Algidus. 

I  congratulate  you — and  I  do  not  mean  it  as  a  mere  faqon  de  parler — on 
your  Ordination. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  395 

CLXIII.      *TO    C.   J.    VAUGHAN,    ESO.. 

Rugby,  September  13,  1837. 

The  first  sheet  of  the  History  is   actually  printed,  and  I 

hope  it  will  he  out  before  the  winter.  But  I  am  sure  that  it  will  disappoint 
no  one  so  much  as  it  will  myself;  for  I  see  a  standard  of  excellence  before 
me  in  my  mind,  which  I  cannot  realize ;  and  I  mourn  over  the  deficient 
-knowledge  of  my  book,  seeing  how  much  requires  to  be  known  in  order  to 
write  History  well,  and  how  soon  in  so  many  places  the  soil  of  my  own 
knowledge  is  bored  through,  and  there  is  the  barren  rock  or  gravel  which 
yields  nothing. 

I  could  write  on  much,  but  my  time  presses.  I  am  anxious  to  know 
your  final  decision  as  to  profession ;  but  I  do  not  like  to  attempt  to  influence 
you.  Whatever  be  your  choice,  it  does  not  much  matter,  if  you  follow 
steadily  our  great  common  profession,  Christ's  service.  Alas  !  when  will 
the  Church  ever  exist  in  more  than  in  name,  so  that  this  profession  might 
have  that  zeal  infused  into  it  which  is  communicated  by  an  '•  Esprit  de 
Corps ;"  and,  if  the  "  Body"  were  the  real  Church,  instead  of  our  abomi- 
nable sects,  with  their  half  priestcraft,  half  profaneness,  its  "  Spirit"  would 
be  one  that  we  might  desire  to  receive  into  all  our  hearts  and  all  our 
minds. 


CLXIV.      TO    THE    REV.    J.    HEARN. 

Rugby,  September  25,  1837. 

I  have  to  thank  you  for  two  very  kind  letters,  as  also  for  a 

volume  of  C 's  Sermons Do  you  know  that  C was 

an  old  Oxford  pupil  of  mine  in  1815?  and  a  man  for  whom  I  have  a  great 
regard,  though  I  am  afraid  he  thinks  me  a  heretic,  and  though  he  has  joined 
that  party  which,  as  a  party,  I  think  certainly  to  be  a  very  bad  one.     But,  i( 

you  ever  see  C ,  I  should  be  much  obliged  to  you  if  you  would  give  him 

my  kind  remembrances.  It  grieves  me  to  be  so  parted  as  I  am  from  so 
many  men  with  whom  I  was  once  intimate.  I  feel  and  speak  very  strongly 
against  their  party,  but  I  always  consider  the  party  as  a  mere  abstraction  of 
its  peculiar  character  as  a  party,  and  as  such  I  think  it  detestable ;  but  take 
any  individual  member  of  it,  and  his  character  is  made  up  of  many  other 
elements  than  the  mere  peculiarities  of  his  party.  He  may  be  kind-hearted, 
sensible  on  many  subjects,  sincere,  and  a  good  Christian,  and  therefore  I 
may  love  and  respect  him,  though  his  party  as  such, — that  is,  the  peculiar 
views  which  constitute  the  bond  of  union  amongst  its  members, — I  think  to 
be  most  utterly  at  variance  with  Christianity.  But  I  dare  say  many  peo- 
ple, hearing  and  reading  my  strong  condemnations  of  Tories  and  Newman- 
ites,  think  that  I  feel  very  bitterly  against  all  who  belong  to  these  parties ; 
whereas — unless  they  are  merely  Tories  and  Newmanites — I  feel  no  dislike 
to  them,  and  in  many  instances  love  and  value  them  exceedingly.  Hamp- 
den's business  seemed  to  me  different,  as  there  was  in  that  something  more 
than  theoretical  opinions ;  there  was  downright  evil  acting,  and  the  more  I 
consider  it,  the  more  does  my  sense  of  its  evil  rise.  Certainly  my  opinion  of 
the  principal  actors  in  that  affair  has  been  altered  by  it  towards  them  per- 
sonally ;  I  do  not  say  that  it  should  make  me  forget  all  their  good  qualities, 

but  I  consider  it  as  a  very  serious  blot  in  their  moral  character 

But  I  did  not  mean  to  fill  my  letter  with  this,  only  the  thought  of  C 

made  me  remember  how  much  I  was  alienated  from  many  old  friends,  and 
then  I  wish  to  explain  how  I  really  did  feel  about  them,  for  I  believe  that 
many  people  think  me  to  be  very  hard  and  very  bitter;  thinking  so,  I  hope 
and  believe,  unjustly. 


306  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 


CLXV.       *    TO    DR.   GREENHILL. 

Rugby,  September  18,  1837. 

I  shall  be  anxious  to  hear  what  you  think  of  Homoeo- 
pathy, wh'ich  my  wife  has  tried  twice  with  wonderful  success,  and  I  once 
with  quite  success  enough  to  try  it  again.  Also  I  shall  like  to  hear  any 
thing  fresh  about  Animal  Magnetism,  which  has  always  excited  my  curiosi- 
ty. But  more  than  all,  I  would  fain  learn  something  of  malaria,  and  about 
the  causes  of  pestilential  disease,  particularly  the  Cholera.  It  is  remarkable, 
that  while  all  ordinary  disease  seems  to  yield  more  and  more  to  our  increas- 
ed knowledge,  pestilences  seem  still  to  be  reserved  by  God  for  his  own  pur- 
poses, and  to  baffle  as  completely  our  knowledge  of  their  causes,  and  our 
power  to  meet  them,  as  in  the  earliest  ages  of  the  world.  Indeed,  the 
Cholera  kills  more  quickly  than  any  of  the  recorded  plagues  of  antiquity  ; 
and  yet  a  poison  so  malignant  can  be  introduced  into  the  air,  and  neither  its 
causes  nor  its  existence  understood  ;  we  see  only  its  effects.  Influenza  and 
Cholera,  I  observe,  just  attack  the  opposite  parts  of  the  system  ;  the  former 
fastening  especially  on  the  chest  and  censorium,  which  are  perfectly  unaf- 
fected, I  believe,  in  Cholera.  As  to  connecting  the  causes  of  either  with 
any  of  the  obvious  phenomena  of  weather  or  locality,  it  seems  to  me  a  pure 
folly  to  attempt  it ;  as  great  as  the  folly  of  ascribing  malaria  to  the  mias- 
mata of  aquatic  plants.  I  shall  be  very  much  interested  in  hearing  your 
reports  of  the  latest  discoveries  in  these  branches  of  science  ;  Medicine, 
like  Law,  having  always  attracted  me  as  much  in  its  study  as  it  has  re- 
pelled me  in  practice ;  not  that  I  feel  alike  towards  the  practice  of  both ;  on 
the  contrary,  I  honour  the  one  as  much  as  I  abhor  the  other  ;  the  physician 
meddles  with  physical  evil  in  order  to  relieve  and  abate  it;  the  lawyer  med- 
dles with  moral  evil  rather  to  aggravate  it  than  to  mend Yet  the 

study  of  Law  is,  I  think,  glorious,  transcending  that  of  any  earthly  thing. 


CLXVI.       TO    W.    EMPSON,    ESQ.. 

Rugby,  November  18,  1837. 

I  trust  that  I  need  not  assure  you  that  I  feel  as  deeply  interested  as  any 
man  can  do  in  the  welfare  of  our  University,  and  most  deeply  should  I 
grieve  if  any  act  of  mine  were  to  impair  it.  But  then  I  am  interested  in 
the  University,  so  far  as  it  may  be  a  means  towards  effecting  certain  great 
ends ;  if  it  does  not  promote  these,  it  is  valueless  ;  if  it  obstruct  them,  it  is 
actually  pernicious.  So  far  I  know  we  are  agreed  ;  but  then  to  my  mind  the 
whole  good  that  a  University  can  do  towards  the  cause  of  general  educa- 
tion depends  on  its  holding  manifestly  a  Christian  character  ;  if  it  does  not 
hold  this,  it  seems  to  me  to  be  at  once  so  mischievous,  from  giving  its  sanc- 
tion to  a  most  mischievous  principle,  that  its  evil  will  far  outweigh  its  good. 
Now  the  education  system  in  Ireland,  which  Jias  yet  been  violently  con- 
demned by  many  good  men,  is  Christian,  though  it  is  not  Protestant  or 
Catholic  ;  their  Scripture  lessons  give  it  the  Christian  character  clearly 
and  decisively.  Now  are  we  really  for  the  sake  of  a  few  Jews,  who  may 
like  to  have  a  Degree  in  Arts, — or  for  the  sake  of  one  or  two  Mahomedans, 
who  may  possibly  have  the  same  wish,  or  for  the  sake  of  English  unbeliev- 
ers, who  dare  not  openly  avow  themselves, — are  we  to  destroy  our  only 
chance  of  our  being  either  useful  or  respected  as  an  institution  of  national 
education?  There  is  no  difficulty  with  Dissenters  of  any  denomination ; 
what  we  have  proposed  has  been  so  carefully  considered,  that  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  pretend  that  it  bears  a  sectarian  character ;  it  is  objected  to  merely  as 
being  Christian,  as  excluding  Jews,  Turks,  and  misbelievers. 

Now, — considering  the  small  numbers  of  the  two  first  of  these  divisions, 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  397 

and  that  the  last  have  as  yet  no  ostensible  and  recognized  existence,  and 
that  our  Charter  declares  in  the  very  opening  that  the  end  of  our  institution 
is  the  promotion  of  religion  and  morality, — I  hold  myself  abundantly  justi- 
fied in  interpreting  the  subsequent  expressions  as  relating  only  to  all  denom- 
inations of  Her  Majesty's  Christian  subjects,  and  in  that  sense  I  cordially 
accede  to  them.  Beyond  that  I  cannot  go,  as  I  have  not  the  smallest  doubt 
that  it  is  better  to  go  on  with  our  present  system,  with  all  its  narrowness  and 
deficiencies,  than  to  begin  a  pretended  system  of  national  education  on  any 
"other  than  a  Christian  basis.  As  to  myself,  therefore,  my  course  is  perfectly 
clear.  If  our  report  be  rejected  on  Wednesday, — I  mean  as  to  its  Christian 
clauses, — I  certainly  will  not  allow  my  name  to  be  affixed  to  it  without 
them  ;  nor  can  I  assist  any  farther  in  preparing  a  scheme  of  Examination 
which  I  should  regard  as  a  mere  evil.  It  would  be  the  first  time  that  educa- 
tion in  England  was  avowedly  unchristianized  for  the  sake  of  accommodat- 
ing Jews  or  unbelievers ;  and  as,  on  the  one  hand,  I  do  not  believe  that 
either  of  these  are  so  numerous  as  to  be  entitled  to  consideration  even  on 
points  lar  less  vital,  so,  if  they  were  ever  so  numerous,  it  might  be  a  very 
good  reason  why  the  national  property  should  be  given  to  their  establish- 
ments and  taken  away  from  ours,  but  nothing  could  ever  justify  a  compro- 
mise between  us  and  them  in  such  a  matter  as  education 

I  am  quite  sure  that  no  earnest  Christian  would  wish  the  Gospels  and 
Acts,  and  the  Scripture  History,  to  be  excluded,  because  they  were  in  some 
instances  understood  differently.  It  was  a  sure  mark  of  the  false  mother 
when  she  said,  "  let  the  child  be  neither  mine  nor  thine,  but  divide  it ;"  the 
real  mother  valued  the  child  very  differently.  I  can  see,  therefore,  in  this 
question,  no  persons  opposed  to  us  whom  I  should  wish  to  conciliate, — no 
benefits  in  the  University,  if  it  bears  no  mark  of  Christianity  which  I  should- 
think  worth  preserving.  It  will  grieve  me  very  much  if  we  in  the  last  result 
take  a  different  view  of  this  matter. 


CLXVII.   TO  THE  REV.  TREVENEN  PENROSE. 

(His  brother-in-law.) 

Rugby,  November  20,  1837. 

I  have  long  since  purposed  to  write  to  you,  and  at  last  I  hope  I  shall  be 
able  to  do  it.  I  always  read  your  additions  to  the  Journal  with  great  inter- 
est, and  they  never  fail  to  awaken  in  me  many  thoughts  of  various  kinds, 
but  principally,  I  think,  a  strong  sense  of  the  blessing  which  seems  to  follow 
your  father's  house,  and  of  the  true  peace,  which,  for  seventeen  years,  I  can 
testify,  and  I  believe  for  many  more,  has  continually  abided  with  it.  And 
this  peace  I  am  inclined  to  value  above  every  other  blessing  in  the  world  ; 
for  it  is  very  far  from  the  "  Otium  "  of  the  Epicurean,  and  might  indeed  be 
enjoyed  any  where  ;  but  in  your  case  outward  circumstances  seem  happily 
to  have  combined  with  inward,  and  other  people  have  rarely,  I  believe,  so 
large  a  portion  of  the  one  or  of  the  other.  I  am  not  disposed  to  quarrel  with 
my  own  lot,  nevertheless,  it  is  not  altogether  peaceful,  and  this  great  con- 
cern oppresses  me  more  as  I  grow  older,  and  as  I  feel  more  deeply  the  evils 
I  am  powerless  to  quell.  You  see  much  hardness,  perhaps,  and  much  igno- 
rance, but  then  you  see  also  much  softness,  if  nowhere  else,  yet  amongst  the 
sick  ;  and  you  see  much  affection  and  self-denial  amongst  the  poor,  which 
are  things  to  refresh  the  heart ;  but  I  have  always  to  deal  Avith  health  and 
youth,  and  lively  spirits,  which  are  rarely  soft  or  self-denying.  And  where 
there  is  little  intellectual  power,  as  generally  there  is  very  little,  it  is  very 
hard  to  find  any  points  of  sympathy.  And  the  effect  of  this  prevalent  medi- 
ocrity of  character  is  very  grievous.  Good  does  not  grow,  and  the  fallow- 
ground  lies  ready  for  all  evil. 


308  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


CLXVIII.      TO    W.    EMPSON,    ESd- 

Rugby,  November  28, 1837. 

The  whole  question  turns  upon  this : — whether  the  country 

understood,  and  was  meant  to  understand,  that  the  University  of  London 
was  to  be  open  to  all  Christians  without  distinction,  or  to  all  men  without 
distinction.  The  question  which  had  been  discussed  with  regard  to  Oxford 
and  Cambridge,  was  the  admissibility  of  Dissenters ;  which  in  common 
speech  does  not  mean,  I  think,  Dissenters  from  Christianity :  no  one  argued, 
so  far  as  I  know,  for  the  admission  of  avowed  unbelievers.  I  thought  that 
the  University  of  London  was  intended  to  solve  this  question,  and  I  there-- 
fore  readily  joined  it.  I  thought  that  whatever  difficulties  were  supposed  to 
exist  with  respect  to  the  introduction  of  the  Greek  Testament,  related  to 
Dissenters  only,  and,  as  such,  I  respected  them  ;  and  our  plan,  therefore, 
waiving  the  Epistles,  requires  only  some  one  Gospel  and  the  Acts ;  that  is, 
any  one  who  is  afraid  of  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,  may  take  up  St.  Luke,  or 
St.  Mark ;  and  St.  Luke  and  the  Acts  have  been  translated  by  the  Irish 
Board  of  Education,  and  are  used  in  the  Irish  schools  with  the  full  consent 
of  Catholics  and  Protestants ;  nor  do  I  imagine  that  any  Protestant  Dissent- 
ers could  consistently  object  to  either.  I  do  not  see  the  force  of  the  argu- 
ment about  the  College  in  Gower  Street;  because  we  admit  their  students 
to  be  .examined  for  degrees,  we  do  not  sanction  their  system,  any  more  than 
we  sanction  the  very  opposite  system  of  King's  College.  Nor  does  it  follow, 
so  far  as  I  see,  that  University  College  must  have  a  Professor  of  Theology, 
because  we  expect  its  members  to  have  a  knowledge  of  the  elements  of 
Christianity.  University  College  hopes — or  has  not  yet  ventured  to  say  it 
does  not  hope — that  its  students  are  provided  with  this  knowledge  before 
they  join  it.  But  I  should  protest,  in  the  strongest  terms,  against  its  being 
supposed  that  our  University  is  to  be  merely  an  University  College  with  a 
Charter  :  if  so,  undoubtedly  I  would  not  belong  to  it  for  an  hour.  You  say 
that  we  are  bringing  in  the  Greek  Testament  by  a  side  wind,  in  putting  it 
in  amongst  the  Classical  writers :  but,  if  by  Classics  we  mean  any  thing 
more  than  Greek  and  Latin  Grammar,  they  are  just  the  one  part  of  our  Ex- 
amination which  embraces  points  of  general  education :  for  instance,  we 
have  put  in  some  recommendations  about  Modern  History,  which,  if 
Classics  be  taken  to  the  letter,  are  just  as  much  of  a  departure  from  our  pro- 
vince as  what  we  have  done  about  the  Greek  Testament.  On  the  whole,  I 
am  quite  clear  as  to  my  original  position,  namely,  that  if  you  once  get  off 
from  the  purely  natural  ground  of  physical  science,  Philology,  and  pure  Lo- 
gic,— the  moment,  in  short,  on  which  you  enter  upon  any  moral  subjects, — 
Avhether  Moral  Philosophy  or  History, — you  must  either  be  Christian  or 
Antichristian,  for  you  touch  upon  the  ground  of  Christianity,  and  you  must 
either  take  it  as  your  standard  of  moral  judgment, — or  you  must  renounce 
it,  and  either  follow  another  standard,  or  have  no  standard  at  all.  In  other 
words,  again-,  the  moment  you  touch  on  what  alone  is  education, — the  form- 
ing the  moral  principles  and  habits  of  man, — neutrality  is  impossible ;  it 
would  be  very  possible,  if  Christianity  consisted  really  in  a  set  of  theoretical 
truths,  as  many  seem  to  fancy ;  but  it  is  not  possible,  inasmuch  as  it  claims 
to  be  the  paramout  arbiter  of  all  our  moral  judgments  ;  and  he  who  judges 
of  good  and  evil,  right  and  wrong,  without  reference  to  its  authority  virtually, 
denies  it.  The  Gower  Street  College  I  therefore  hold  to  be  Antichristian, 
inasmuch  as  it  meddles  with  moral  subjects, — having  lectures  in  History, — 
and  yet  does  not  require  Professors  to  be  Christians.  And  so  long  as  the 
Scriptures  were  held  to  contain  divine  truth  on  physical  science,  it  was 
then  impossible  to  give  even  physical  instruction  neutrally ; — you  must 
either  teach  it,  according  to  God's  principles,  (it  being  assumed  that  God's 
word  had  pronounced  concerning  it,)  or  in  defiance  of  them.  I  hope  we 
may  meet  on  Saturday :  I  know  that  you  are  perfectly  sincere,  and  that 


LIFE    OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  399 

L is  so :  nevertheless,  I  am  persuaded  that  your  argument  goes  on  an 

over-estimate  of  the  theological  and  abstract  character  of  Christianity,  and 
an  under-estimate  of  it  as  a  moral  law  ;  else  how  can  L talk  of  a  clergy- 
man being  in  a  false  position  in  belonging  to  the  University,  if  he  does  not 
think  that  the  position  is  equally  false  for  every  Christian :  if  it  be  false  for 
me  it  is  false  for  you,  except  on  the  priestcraft  notion,  which  is  as  unchris- 
tian, in  my  opinion,  as  the  system  in  Gower  Street.  Indeed,  the  two  help 
one  another  well. 


CLXIX.      TO    J.    C.    PLATT,    ESQ.. 

Rugby,  December  6,  1837. 

I  am  afraid  that  I  did  no  service  to  the  Hertford  Re- 
former ;  for  what  I  sent  them  was,  I  knew,  too  general  and  discursive  for  a 
newspaper :  but  they  would  insert  all  my  articles,  and  I  felt  that  they  would 
not  thank  me  for  any  more  such,  and  I  thought  that  I  could  not  manage  to 
write  what  really  would  be  to  their  purpose.  You  must  not  misunderstand 
me,  as  if  I  thought  my  writings  were  too  good  for  a  newspaper ;  it  is  very 
much  the  contrary,  for  I  think  that  a  newspaper  requires  a  more  condensed 
and  practical  style  than  I  am  equal  to, — such,  perhaps,  as  only  habit  and 
mixing  more  in  the  actual  shock  of  opinions  can  give  a  man.  My  writing 
partakes  of  the  character  of  my  way  of  life,  which  is  very  much  retired 
from  the  highway  of  politics,  and  of  all  great  discussions,  though  it  is  engag- 
ed enough  with  a  busy  little  world  of  its  own 

I  was  much  gratified  in  the  summer  by  going  over  to  France  for  about 
ten  days,  at  the  end  of  the  holidays,  with  my  wife  and  three  eldest  children. 
Seven  years  had  elapsed  since  I  had  been  in  France  last,  so  that  many 
things  had  quite  an  appearance  of  novelty,  and  I  fancied  that  I  could  trace 
the  steady  growth  of  every  thing  from  the  continuance  of  peace,  and  the  ab- 
sence of  most  of  those  evils  which  in  times  past  so  interfered  with  national 
prosperity.  We  went  to  Rouen,  Evreux,  and  Chartres,  and  then  came  back 
through  Versailles  and  Paris.  I  admired  Paris  as  I  always  had  done,  and 
we  had  very  fine  weather  ;  but  I  had  no  time  to  call  on  any  body,  even  if 
all  the  world  had  not  been  in  the  country.  This  litte  tour  I  owed  to  the  elec- 
tion, which  brought  me  up  from  Westmoreland  to  Warwickshire  to  vote, 
and  it  was  so  near  the  end  of  the  holidays,  that  it  did  not  seem  worth  while 
to  go  back  again.  I  watched  the  elections  with  great  interest,  but  not  with 
much  surprise.  In  1831,  when  I  wrote  for  the  Sheffield  Courant,  I  shared 
the  common  opinion  as  to  the  danger  which  threatened  all  our  institutions 
from  the  force  of  an  ultra-popular  party.  But  the  last  six  years  have  taught 
me, — what  the  Roman  History  ought  indeed  to  have  shown  me  before, — that 
when  an  aristocracy  is  not  thoroughly  corrupted,  its  strength  is  incalculable  ; 
and  it  acts  through  the  relations  of  private  life,  which  are  permanent, 
whereas  the  political  excitement,  which  opposes  it,  must  always  be  short- 
lived. In  fact,  the  great  amount  of  liberty  and  good  government  enjoyed  in 
England,  is  the  security  of  the  aristocracy;  there  are  no  such  pressing  and 
flagrant  evils  existing,  as  to  force  men's  attention  from  their  own  domestic 
concerns,  and  make  them  cast  off  their  natural  ties  of  respect  or  of  fear  for 
their  richer  or  nobler  neighbours  ;  and  as  for  Ireland,  the  English  care  not 
for  it  one  groat.  , 


CLXX.      TO    MR.    JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 


Rugby,  December  8,  1837. 

I  have  asked  Hull  to  send  you  the  two  first  printed  sheets  of  my  History. 
You  had  promised  to  look  at  the  manuscript,  and,  if  you  agree  with  me,  you 


310  LIFE    0F   DR    ARNOLD. 

will  find  it  pleasantcr  to  read  print  than  writing.  Specially  will  you  notice 
any  expressions  in  the  Legends  which  may  seem  to  you  to  approach  too  near 
to  the  language  of  our  translation  of  the  Bible.  I  have  tried  to  avoid  this, 
but,  in  trying  to  write  in  an  antiquated  and  simple  language,  that  model  with 
which  we  are  most  familiar  will  sometimes  be  followed  too  closely;  and  no 
one  can  deprecate  more  than  I  do  any  thing  like  a  trivial  use  of  that  language 
which  should  be  confined  to  one  subject  only.  I  hope  and  believe  that  i  have 
kept  clear  of  this;  still  I  would  rather  have  your  judgment  on  it;  I  think 
you  will  at  the  same  time  agree  with  me  that  the  Legends  ought  to  be  told  as 
Legends,  and  not  in  the  style  of  real  history.  We  had  a  four  hours'  debate 
at  the  University,  and  a  division  in  our  favour  with  a  majority  of  one.  But 
the  adversary  will  oppose  us  still  step  by  step ;  and  they  are  going  to  ask  the 
Attorney-General's  opinion,  whether  we  can  examine  in  the  Greek  Testament 
without  a  breach  of  our  charter  !  !  !  A  strange  charter  surely  for  the 
Defender  of  the  faith  to  grant,  if  it  forbids  the  use  of  the  Christian  Scrip- 
tures. 


CLXXI.      f    TO    REV.   T.    J.    ORMEROD. 

(After  speaking  of  the  affair  of  the  Archbishop  of  Cologne.) 

Fox  How,  December  18,  1837. 

Certainly  there   is   no    battle   in   which   I    so    entirely 

sympathize  as  in  this  of  the  Christian  Church,  against  the  Priestcraft- 
Antichrist.  And  yet  this  is  not  quite  true,  for  I  sympathize  as  cordially  in 
its  battle  against  the  other  Antichrist ;  the  Antichrist  of  Utilitarian  unbelief, 

against  which  I  am  fighting  at  the  London  University.     If persuades 

the  government  to  sanction  his  views,  it  will  be  a  wrench  to  me  to  separate 
from  the  only  party  that  hitherto  I  have  been  able  to  go  along  with ;  and  to 
be  obliged  to  turn  an  absolute  political  Ishmaelite,  condemning  all  parties, 
knowing  full  well  what  to  shun,  but  finding  nothing  to  approve  or  sympathize 
with.  But  so  I  suppose  it  ought  to  be  with  us,  till  Christ's  kingdom  come, 
and  both  the  Antichrists  be  put  down  before  him. 


CLXXII.       TO    MR.    JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Fox  How,  December  20, 1837. 

We  have  been  here  since  Saturday  afternoon,  and  I  think  it  has  rained 
almost  ever  since;  at  this  moment  Wansfell  and  Kirkstone  and  Fairfield  are 
dimly  looming  through  a  medium  which  consists,  I  suppose,  as  much  of 
water  as  of  air ;  the  Rotha  is  racing  at  the  rate  of  eight  or  nine  miles  an  hour, 
and  the  meadows  are  becoming  rather  lake-like.  Notwithstanding,  I  believe 
that  every  one  of  us,  old  and  young,  would  rather  be  here  than  any  where 
else  in  the  world. 

I  thank  you  very  heartily  for  your  letter,  and,  in  this  present  leisure  time 
of  the  holidays,  I  can  answer  it  at  once  and  without  hurry.  Your  judg- 
ment as  to  the  Legends,  determines  me  at  once  to  recast  that  whole  first 
chapter.  I  wish,  however,  if  it  is  not  giving  you  too  much  trouble,  that  you 
would  get  the  manuscript,  and  read  also  the  chapter  about  the  banishment 
of  the  Tarquins  and  the  battle  by  the  Lake  Regillus.  I  think  that  you  would 
not  find  it  open  to  the  same  objections;  at  least  Wordsworth  read  it  through 
with  a  reference  merely  to  the  language,  and  he  approved  of  it  ;  and  I  think 
that  it  is  easier  and  more  natural  than  the  first  chapter.  But  I  have  not,  and 
I  trust  I  shall  not,  shrink  from  any  labour  of  alteration,  in  order  to  make  the 
work  as  complete  as  I  can  ;  it  will,  after  all,  fall  infinitely  short  of  that  model 
which  I  fancy  keenly,  but  vainly  strive  to  carry  out  into  execution.     With 


LIFE   OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  31 1 

regard  to  the  first  chapter,  you  have  convinced  me  that  it  is  faulty,  because 
it  is  not  what  I  meant  it  to  be.  But  as  to  the  principle,  I  am  still  of  opinion, 
that  the  Legends  cannot  be  omitted  without  great  injury,  and  that  they  must 
not  be  told  in  my  natural  style  of  narrative.  The  reason  of  this  appears  to 
me  to  be,  the  impossibility  of  any  man's  telling  such  stories  in  a  civilized 
age  in  his  own  proper  person,  with  that  sincerity  of  belief,  nay  even  with 
that  gravity  which  is  requisite  to  give  them  their  proper  charm.  If  I  thought 
that  they  contained  really  an  historical  skeleton,  disguised  under  fabulous 
additions,  it  would  of  course  be  easy  to  give  the  historical  outline  as  history 
in  my  own  natural  language,  and  to  omit,  or  to  notice  with  a  grave  remark 
as  to  their  fabulousness,  the  peculiar  marvels  of  the  stories.  This  was  done 
by  Goldsmith,  Rollin,  &c.  But  I  wish  to  give  not  the  supposed  facts  of  the 
stories,  but  the  stories  themselves  in  their  oldest  traceable  form ;  I  regard 
them  as  poetry,  in  which  the  form  is  quite  as  essential  as  the  substance  of 
the  story.  It  is  a  similar  question,  and  fraught  with  similar  difficulties,  to 
that  which  regards  the  translation  of  Homer  and  Herodotus.  If  I  were  to 
translate  Herodotus,  it  were  absurd  to  do  it  in  my  common  English,  because 
he  and  I  do  not  belong  to  analogous  periods  of  Greek  and  English  litera- 
ture ;  I  should  try  to  translate  him  in  the  style  of  the  old  translation  of 
Comines  rather  than  of  Froissart ;  in  the  English  of  that  period  of  our  na- 
tional cultivation  which  corresponds  to  the  period  of  Greek  cultivation  at 
which  he  wrote.  I  might  and  probably  should  do  this  ill :  still  I  should  try 
to  mend  the  execution  Avithout  altering  my  plan ;  and  so  I  should  do  with 
these  Roman  stories.  For  instance,  the  dramatic  form  appears  to  me  quite 
essential  ;  I  mean  the  making  the  actors  express  their  thoughts  in  the  first 
person,  instead  of  saying  what  they  thought  or  felt  as  narrative.  This,  no 
doubt,  is  the  style  of  the  Bible  :  but  it  is  not  peculiar  to  it ;  you  have  it  in 
Herodotus  just  the  same,  because  it  is  characteristic  of  a  particular  state  of 
cultivation,  which  all  people  pass  through  at  a  certain  stage  in  their  pro- 
gress. If  I  could  do  it  well,  I  would  give  all  the  Legends  at  once  in  verse, 
in  the  style  and  measure  of  Chapman's  Homer ;  and  that  would  be  the  best 
and  liveliest  way  of  giving  them,  and  liable  to  no  possible  charge  of  paro- 
dying the  Bible.  The  next  best  way  is  that  which  I  have  tried  and  failed  in 
executing;  but  I  will  try  again;  and  if  it  is  not  too  much  trouble,  I  will  ask 
you  to  look  at  the  new  attempt.  I  feel  sure,  and  I  really  have  thought  a 
great  deal  upon  this  point, — that  to  give  the  story  of  the  white  sow,  of  the 
wolf  suckling  the  twins,  of  Romulus  being  carried  up  to  heaven,  &c,  in  my 
own  language,  would  be  either  merely  flat  and  absurd,  or  else  would  contain 
so  palpable  an  irony,  as  to  destroy  the  whole  effect  which  one  would  wish 
to  create  by  telling  the  stories  at  all. 

For  the  other  and  greater  matter  of  the  University,  I  think  it  is  very 
probable  that  I  shall  have  to  leave  it ;  but  I  cannot  believe  that  it  is  other- 
wise than  a  solemn  duty  to  stand  by  it  as  long  as  I  can  hope  to  turn  it  to 
good.  Undoubtedly  we  must  not  do  evil  that  good  may  come  ;  but  we  may 
and  must  bear  much  that  is  painful,  and  associate  with  those  whom  we  dis- 
approve of,  in  order  to  do  good.  What  is  the  evil  of  belonging  to  the  Uni- 
versity k  priori  ?  There  is  no  avowed  principle  in  its  foundation  which  I 
think  wrong ;  the  comprehension  of  all  Christians,  you  know,  I  think  most 
right ;  if  more  be  meant,  I  think  it  most  wrong ;  but  this  is  the  very  point 
which  I  am  trying  to  bring  to  issue  ;  and,  though  my  fears  of  the  issue  out- 
weigh my  hopes,  yet  while  there  is  any  hope  I  ought  not  to  give  up  the  bat- 
tle. 


CLXXIII.      TO    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Fox  How,  January  23, 1838. 

I  had  intended  to  answer  your  kind  letter  of  the  21st  of  November  long 
before  this  time ;  I  reserved  it  for  the  leisure  of  Fox  How,  and  I  have  found, 


312  LIFE   OP   DR.  ARNOLD. 

as  is  often  the  case,  the  less  I  have  to  do,  the  less  I  do  of  any  thing.  Now 
our  holidays  are  fast  wearing  away,  and  in  little  more  than  a  week  we  shall 
leave  this  most  delightful  home  ;  a  home  indeed  so  peaceful  and  so  delightful, 
that  it  would  not  be  right  to  make  it  one's  constant  portion;  but  after  the 
half-years  at  Rugby,  which  now  begin  to  be  quite  as  much  as  I  can  well 
bear,  the  rest  seems  to  be  allowed  ;  and  I  drink  it  in  with  intense  enjoyment, 
and  t  hope  with  something  of  the  thankfulness  which  it  claims 

To  London  I  must  go,  on  account  of  our  meeting  of  the  London  Univer- 
sity on  the  7th,  when  the  question  of  Scriptural  Examination  will  again  be 
discussed.  It  was  curious  to  me,  knowing  my  character  at  Oxford,  to  hear 
myself  charged,  at  our  last  meeting  in  December,  with  wishing  to  engross 
the  University  of  London  for  the  Established  Church,  as  the  other  Univer- 
sities were  engrossed  by  it  already.  The  opposition  is  very  fierce.  .  .  . 
.  .  .  I  could  not  examine  a  Jew  in  a  history  of  which  he  would  not  ad- 
mit a  single  important  fact,  nor  could  I  bear  to  abstain  systematically  from 
calling  our  Lord  by  any  other  name  than  Jesus,  because  I  must  not  shock 
the  Jew  by  implying  that  He  was  the  Christ. The  pre- 
vailing evils  in  the  University  of  Oxford  are,  to  be  sure,  rather  of  a  differ- 
ent character  from  those  of  the  University  of  London .     .  But 

you  have  done  much  good  with  the  statutes,  and  I  delight  to  hear  about  the 
prospect  of  the  six  scholarships. 

I  have  been  engaged  in  tiresome  disputes  about  my  History  with  the 
booksellers,  and  they  are  only  just  settled.  The  first  volume  will  now,  I 
suppose,  go  to  press  speedily,  and  I  have  begun  the  second.  It  is  delightful 
work,  when  I  can  get  on  with  it  without  interruption,  as  is  the  case  here. 
Besides  this,  I  have  done  little  except  reading  Newman's  book  about  Ro- 
manism and  Protestantism,  and  Bishop  Sanderson's  work  on  the  Origin  of 
Government,  which  Pusey  refers  to  in  the  Preface  to  his  Sermons.  The 
latter  work  does  not  raise  my  opinion  of  its  author ;  it  contains  divers 
startling  assertions,  admirably  suited  to  the  purposes  of  text  qvioters,  which 
appear  to  advocate  pure  despotism ;  but  then  they  are  so  qualified,  that  at  last 
one  finds  nothing  surprising  in  them,  except  the  foolishness  or  the  unfairness 

of  putting  them  out  at  first  in  so  paradoxical  a  form.1 I 

think,  by  what  I  hear,  the  cold  in  Oxford  must  have  been  more  severe  than 
with  us.  I  have  not  seen  our  thermometer  lower  than  14,  at  which  it  stood, 
at  9  a.  m.  last  Saturday,  in  a  northern  aspect.  But  we  have  had  no  snow  in 
the  valleys  till  Sunday,  and  the  water  in  the  house  has  never  been  frozen. 

The  hills  have  been  very  hard  to  walk  on,  all  the  streams 

being  hard  frozen,  and  the  water  which  generally  is  steeping  all  the  surface 
of  the  slopes  being  now  sheets  of  ice.  But  the  waterfalls  and  the  snowy 
mountain  summits,  backed  by  the  clear  blue  sky,  have  been  most  beautiful. 


CLXXIV.      TO    THE    CHEVALIER    BUNSEN. 
(On  the  affair  of  the  Archbishop  of  Cologne.) 

Fox  How,  January  27,  1838. 

When  I  consider  the  question  I  am  more  and  more  at  a 

loss  to  guess  how  it  can  be  satisfactorily  solved.  How  can  truth  and  error 
be  brought  into  harmony  1  This  Marriage  question  is  admirably  fitted  for 
showing  the  absurdity  of  the  favourite  distinction  between  spiritual  things 
and  secular.  Every  voluntary  moral  action  is  to  a  Christian  both  the  one 
and  the  other.  "  Spiritual  "  and  "  ritual "  differ  utterly.  Mere  ritual  ob- 
servances may  be  separated  from  secular  actions,  but  ritual  observances  are 
not  a  Christian's  religion.     A  Christian's  religion  is  co-extensive  with  his 

1  Of  Mr.  Newman's  book  he  says,  in  another  letter, "  Parts  of  it  I  think  very  good, 
parts  as  bad  as  bad  can  be." 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  3^3 

life,  and  how  can  he,  in  the  general  tenor  of  his  life,  obey  two  masters,  the 
King  and  the  Pope ;  how  can  he  at  once  obey  the  rightful  authorities  of  the 
Christian  Church  and  the  usurped  authority  of  Priestcraft '?  I  lament  the 
very  expressions  in  which  the  actual  dispute  is  described.  It  is  represented 
as  a  contest  between  the  Church  and  the  Government,  or  between  the 
Church  and  the  State ;  in  which  case  1  think  that  all  Christians  would  be 
bound  to  obey  the  Church,  and,  if  the  State's  commands  are  incompatib  e 
with  such  obedience,  to  submit  to  martyrdom.  But,  in  truth,  you  are  the 
Church,  and  the  Archbishop  of  Cologne  represents  the  Church's  worst  ene- 
my, the  spirit  of  priesthood.  It  is  Korah  the  Levite,  falsely  pretending  to 
be  a  priest,  and  in  that  false  pretension  rebelling  against  Moses.  But  this 
mingled  usurpation  and  rebellion, — this  root  of  anarchy,  fraud,  and  idolatry, 
— is  the  very  main  principle  of  all  popery,  whether  Romish  or  Oxonian, 
whether  of  the  Archbishop  of  Cologne,  or  of  Pusey  and  Newman.  How 
either  you  or  we  can  preserve  the  Church  from  it,  I  do  not  see ;  but  from 
the  bottom  of  my  heart  do  I  "  wish  you  good  luck  in  the  name  of  the  Lord," 
in  this  most  holy  cause. 

Connected  with  this  is  Rothe's  book,  which  I  have  read  with  great  inte- 
rest. His  first  position, — that  the  State  and  not  the  Church,  (in  the  common 
and  corrupt  sense  of  the  term,)  is  the  perfect  form  under  which  Christianity 
is  to  be  developed, — entirely  agrees  with  my  notions.  But  his  second  posi- 
tion,— that  the  Church  in  the  corrupt  sense,  that  is,  a  priestly  government, 
transmitted  by  a  mystical  succession  from  one  priest  to  another,  is  of  apos- 
tolical origin, — seems  to  me  utterly  groundless.  It  may  be,  that  the  Apostles, 
after  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  if  any  of  them  survived  it,  made  the 
government  of  the  Church  more  monarchical,  and  less  popular ;  and  that 
they  were  very  anxious  to  commit  it  to  persons  of  their  own  choice,  or 
chosen  by  those  who  had  been  so.  But  this  does  not  touch  the  point. 
Different  states  of  society  require  governments  more  or  less  despotic,  and 
that  the  Church  should  be  governed  according  to  the  principles  of  Chris- 
tianity as  set  forth  by  the  Apostles,  is  most  certain.  The  mischief  of  the 
false  Church  notion  consists  in  its  substitution  of  the  idea  of  priesthood  for 
that  of  government,  and  as  a  consequence,  deriving  the  notion  of  a  mystical 
succession  throughout  all  time,  which  does  not  and  cannot  preserve  the 
spirit  of  the  Apostles'  principles,  but  paralyzes  the  free  action  of  the  Church, 
and  introducing  a  principle  incompatible  with  all  sound  notions  of  law  and 
government,  at  one  time  crushes  the  church  with  its  tyranny,  and  at  another 
distracts  it  with  its  anarchy.  I  am  convinced  that  the  whole  mischief  of  the 
great  Antichristian  apostacy  has  for  its  root  the  tenet  of  "  a  priestly  govern- 
ment transmitted  by  a  mystical  succession  from  the  Apostles." 


CLXXV.      *  TO    A.    H.    CLOUGH,    ESa. 

Fox  How,  January  29. 

I  hope  to  see  you  before  another  week  is  over:  still,  as  in  my  short 
visits  to  Oxford  I  see  every  body  in  some  hurry,  I  wish  to  send  these  few 
lines  by  Hill  to  thank  you  for  a  very  kind  letter  which  I  received  from  you 
in  November,  and  which  you  might  perhaps  think  I  had  altogether  forgot- 
ten. I  was  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  it,  and  pray  believe  that,  whenever 
you  can  write  to  me,  your  letters  will  give  me  the  greatest  interest  and 
pleasure.  I  delight  in  your  enjoyment  of  Oxford,  and  in  what  you  say  of 
the  union  amongst  our  Rugby  men  there.  But  I  cannot  think  that  you  are 
yet  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  country  about  Oxford,  as  you  prefer 
the  Rugby  fields  to  it.  Not  to  mention  Bagley  Wood,  do  you  know  the  lit- 
tle valleys  that  debouche  on  the  Valley  of  the  Thames  behind  the  Hinkseys ; 
do  you  know  Horspath,  nestling  under  Shotover ;  or  Elsfield,  on  its  green 
slope,  or  all  the  variety  of  Cumnor  Hill ;  or  the  wider  skirmishing  ground 

21 


314  LIFE  OF   DR.   ARNOLD. 

by  Beckley,  Stanton  St.  John's,  and  Foresthill,  which  we  used  to  expatiate 
over  on  whole  holidays  ? 

As  for  the  school,  Tickell's  success  was  most  welcome  and  most  benefi- 
cial ;  the  railway  and  the  multitude  of  coaches  will  I  suppose  bring  with 
them  their  anxieties ;  but  it  is  of  no  use  to  anticipate  them  beforehand.  I 
trust  with  God's  blessing  we  shall  continue  to  go  on  doing  some  good,  re- 
straining some  evil,  but  we  shall  ever  do  too  little  of  the  former,  and  leave 
too  much  of  the  latter  in  vigour,  to  allow  of  any  feeling  of  self-satisfaction. 
But  I  have  an  unmixed  pleasure  in  thinking  of  many  of  those  who  have  been 
and  who  are  still  with  us :  and  this  pleasure  more  than  makes  up  for  many 
cares.  I  was  very  glad  to  have  Burbidge  here,  and  delighted  to  see  how 
he  enjoyed  the  country.  You  may  be  sure  that  we  shall  be  very  glad  to 
have  you  and  him  in  our  neighbourhood  in  the  summer,  if  his  castle  is  ever 
built.  I  have  been  at  work  steadily,  and  have  begun  the  second  volume  of 
my  History :  the  first  will  I  suppose  now  go  to  press  without  any  farther 
delays.     We  are  all  well,  and  unite  in  kindest  regards  to  you. 


CLXXVI.      TO    SIR    T.  S.  PASLEY,    BART. 

Rugby,  February  16,  1S3S. 

You  may  perhaps  have  seen  in  the  papers  an  account  of  our  meeting  at 
the  London  University ;  but  at  any  rate  I  will  keep  my  promise,  and  give 
you  my  own  report  of  it.  Every  single  member  of  the  Senate  except  my- 
self was  convinced  of  the  necessity,  according  to  the  Charter,  of  giving  the 
Jews  Degrees ;  all  were  therefore  inclined  to  make  an  exemption  in  their 
favour  as  to  the  New  Testament  Examination,  and  thus  to  make  that  Ex- 
amination not  in  all  cases  indispensable.  Most  were  disposed  to  make  it 
altogether  voluntary,  and  that  was  the  course  which  was  at  last  adopted. 
The  examination  is  not  to  be  now  restricted  to  any  one  part  of  the  New 
Testament,  and  it  is  to  be  followed  by  a  certificate  of  a  man's  having  simply 
passed  it,  and  a  class  paper  for  those  who  are  distinguished  in  it.  I  think 
that  it  will  be  passed  so  generally,  as  to  mark  very  much  those  who  do  not 
pass  it ;  and  in  this  way  it  will  do  good.  It  also  saves  the  University  from 
the  reproach  of  neglecting  Christianity  altogether.  But  it  does  not  maintain 
the  principle  which  I  wished ;  and  as  on  the  one  hand  I  think  it  neither  fair 
nor  of  any  use  to  go  on  agitating  the  question  with  every  one  against  me, 
bo,  on  the  other,  I  have  no  satisfaction  in  belonging  to  a  body  whose  views 
are  so  different  from  mine ;  and  I  should  leave  them  at  once,  were  I  not 
anxious  to  see  something  of  the  working  of  our  Scriptural  Examination, 
and,  if  possible,  to  try  to  settle  it  on  a  good  footing.  After  we  left  you  at 
Bowness,  we  had  no  further  adventures.  When  we  came  to  Lyth,.the  snow 
was  all  gone,  and  between  Lancaster  and  Preston  the  roads  were  quite  dirty. 
We  slept  at  Yarrow  Bridge,  embarked  on  the  railway  the  next  day  at  War- 
rington, and  got  safe  home  by  about  ten  o'clock.  Our  visit  to  Oxford  was 
very  delightful;  we  saw  great  numbers  of  my  old  pupils,  and  met  with  a 
very  kind  reception  from  every  one.  Have  you  yet  got  Pusey's  Sermon,  or 
seen  the  review  of  it  in  the  Edinburgh  Review?  That  article  was  written, 
I  am  told,  by  Merivale,  the  Political  Economy  Professor ;  I  have  looked  at 
it,  and  like  its  tone  and  ability,  though  I  do  not  think  that  it  takes  the  ques- 
tion on  the  highest  ground.  From  Oxford  we  went  to  London,  where  my 
two  days  were  passed,  one  at  the  University,  and  the  other  at  Mr.  Phillips's 
room,  where  I  sat  for  my  portrait.  Then  we  went  down  to  Laleham,  from 
whence  I  paid  a  visit  to  Eton,  a  place  which  has  always  a  peculiar  interest 
for  me.  And  now  we  are  as  regularly  settled  at  our  work  as  if  we  had  never 
stirred  from  Rugby,  and  looking  forward  to  the  speedy  opening  of  the  rail- 
way to  Birmingham,  to  effect  which,  we  have  six  hundred  men  working 
night  and  day,  as  hard  as  the  frost  will  let  them.     I  rejoice  in  the  prospect 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


315 


of  a  peaceful  settlement  of  the  affair  of  the  Caroline  ;  it  is  not  easy  to  make 
out  the  facts  exactly,  nor,  if  I  knew  the  truth,  am  I  quite  sure  as  to  the  law. 
But  one  is  glad  to  find  the  American  Government  disposed  to  act  justly  and 
in  a  friendly  spirit ;  and  the  Buffalo  and  the  Canada  Orangemen  will  not,  if 
this  be  the  case,  be  able  to  involve  the  two  countries  in  war.  Alas,  for  all 
our  evergreens,  if  these  biting  east  winds  last  much  longer.  Poor  Murphy's 
reputation  must  be  pretty  well  at  an  end  now. 


CLXXVIl.      TO    THE    BISHOP    OF    NORWICH. 

Rugby,  February  17,  183S. 

The  result  of  the  meeting  of  the  London  University,  on  the  7th,  has 
placed  me  personally  in  a  situation  of  great  embarrassment  ;  and  I  venture 
to  apply  to  you,  to  learn  whether  you,  on  your  own  part,  also  feel  the  same 
difficulty.  On  the  one  hand,  the  Senate  were  so  unanimous  in  their  opinion. 
that  the  admission  of  unbelievers  of  all  sorts  to  Degrees  in  Arts  could  not 
be  resisted  under  the  terms  of  the  Charter,  that  I  should  not  think  it  becom- 
ing to  agitate  the  question  again.  And  I  think  that  the  voluntary  examina- 
tion which  we  have  gained  is  really  a  great  point,  and  I  am  strongly  tempted 
to  assist,  so  far  as  I  can,  towards  carrying  it  into  effect.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  University  has  solemnly  avowed  a  principle  to  whicb  I  am  totally 
opposed, — namely,  that  education  need  not  be  connected  with  Christianity ; 
and  I  do  not  see  how  I  can  join  in  conferring  a  degree  on  those  who,  in 
my  judgment,  cannot  be  entitled  to  it ;  or  in  pronouncing  that  to  be  a  com- 
plete education,  which  I  believe  to  be  no  more  so  than  a  man  without  his 
soul  or  spirit  is  a  complete  man.  Besides,  my  continuing  to  belong  to  the 
University,  may  be  ascribed  to  an  unwillingness  to  offend  the  Government 
from  interested  motives  ;  all  compliances  with  the  powers  that  be  being  apt 
to  be  ascribed  to  unworthy  considerations.  Yet,  again,  you  will  believe  me, 
though probably  would  not,  when  I  say,  that  I  feel  exceedingly. unwil- 
ling to  retire  on  such  grounds  as  mine,  while  three  Bishops  of  our  Church 
do  not  feel  it  inconsistent  with  their  duty  to  remain  in  the  University ;  it 
seems  very  like  presumption  on  my  part,  and  a  coming  forward  without  au- 
thority when  those,  who  have  authority,  judge  that  there  is  no  occasion  for 
any  protest.  My  defence  must  be,  that  the  principle  to  which  I  so  object, 
and  which  appears  to  me  to  be  involved  by  a  continuance  in  the  University, 
may  not  appear  to  others  to  be  at  stake  on  the  present  occasion:  that  I  am 
not  professing,  therefore,  or  pretending  to  be  more  zealous  for  Christianity 
than  other  members  of  the  Senate,  but  that  what  appears  to  me  to  be  dan- 
gerous appears  to  them  to  be  perfectly  innocent ;  and  that  they  naturally, 
therefore,  think  most  of  the  good  which  the  University  will  do,  while  I  fear 
that  all  that  good  will  be  purchased  by  a  greater  evil,  and  cannot,  therefore, 
take  any  part  in  the  good,  as  I  should  wish  to.  do,  because,  to  my  appre- 
hension, it  will  be  bought  too  dearly.  On  the  whole,  my  leaning  is  towards 
resigning;  and  then  I  think  that  I  ought  to  do  it  speedily,  as  my  own  act, 
and  not  one  into  which  I  may  seem  to  have  been  shamed  by  the  remon- 
strances or  example  of  others — of  King's  College,  for  instance  ;  if,  as  seems 
possible,  they  may  renounce  all  connexion  with  us  after  our  late  decision. 


CLXXVIII.      TO    REV.   J.    E.    TYLER. 


February  17,  1838. 

You  will  feel,  I  think,  the  exceedingly  difficult  situation  in  which  I  am 
placed.  I.  am  personally  very  anxious  to  resign  ;  but  the  engine  is  so  pow- 
erful, that  I  hardly  dare  to  abandon  all  share  in  the  guidance  of  it,  while 


316  LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

there  is  any  chance  of  turning  it  to  good.  I  feel  also,  that  the  decision  of 
King's  College  would  greatly  assist  in  determining  me  how  to  act.  If 
they  break  oft'  all  connexion  with  us,  and  thus  leave  us  wholly  in  the  con- 
dition of  an  University  for  men  of  one  party  only,  I  should  be  in  haste  to  be 
gone :  but  if  they  stay  on,  and  are  willing  to  avail  themselves  of  our  religious 
Examination,  I  should  like  to  stay  on  too,  to  make  that  Examination  as  good 
as  I  could.  If  you  know  what  Hugh  Rose's  sentiments  are  on  this  point, 
will  you  have  the  goodness  to  write  me  a  few  lines  about  it?  Your  Conse- 
cration Sermon  for  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury  never  reached  me.  or  otherwise 
I  hope  that  I  should  have  had  the  grace  to  thank  you  for  it  long  ere  now. 
I  used  to  think  that  we  agreed  well,  but  I  heard  that  you  had  been  shocked 
by  my  Church  Reform  Pamphlet ;  and  many  men  with  whom  I  once  agreed 
have  been  scared  in  these  later  days,  and  have,  as  I  think,  allowed  their 
fears  to  drive  them  to  the  wrong  quarter  for  relief.  I  could  tell  you  readily- 
enough  with  what  parties  I  disagreed — namely,  with  all.  My  own  tfhiora- 
rov  Tf'Ao?  I  shall  never  see  fulfilled,  and  what  is  the  least  bad,  6ivTf\>oq  nXoiit;, 

I  hardly  know I  heard  of  your  bad  illness,  and  was  glad  to  find 

that  you  were  recovered  again.  I,  too,  have  felt  lately  that  I  am  not  so 
young  as  when  we  skirmished  in  the  common  room  at  Oriel,  or  speared  on 
Shotover ;  but  God  gives  me  still  so  much  health  and  strength,  that  I  have 
no  excuse  for  not  serving  Him  more  actively. 


CLXXIX.      TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.      (D.) 

Rugby,  February  28,  1838. 

Some  passages  of  your  letter  have,  I  confess,  alarmed  me,  as 

seeming  to  show  that  you  do  not  enough  allow  for  the  effect  of  the  local  in- 
fluences around  you ;  that  questions  assume  an  unreal  importance  in  your 
eyes,  because  of  their  accidental  magnitude  within  the  immediate  range 
of  your  own  view ;  that  you  are  disposed  to  dispute  great  truths,  because  in 
the  society  into  which  you  happen  to  be  thrown,  it  has  become  the  fashion 
to  assail  them.  Now,  I  remember  that  in  Henry  Martyn's  Journal,  written 
when  he  was  in  Persia,  there  is  a  passage  to  this  effect :  "  I  reviewed  the 
evidence  in  proof  of  the  falsehood  of  Mahommedanism,  and  found  it  clear 
and  convincing."  It  was  natural  that  to  him,  living  in  Persia,  Mahomme- 
danism should  have  acquired  an  importance  of  which  we  in  Europe  can 
form  no  idea ;  it  was  natural  that  he  should  endeavour  to  satisfy  himself  of 
the  falsehood  of  that  which  we  in  England  may  dismiss  from  our  minds  with 
little  hesitation.  But  I  think  it  would  have  startled  us,  had  we  found  him 
attaching  so  much  weight  to  the  goodness  and  the  ability  of  the  Persian 
Imaums  around  him,  as  to  conceive  it  possible  that  they  might  be  right,  and 
that  he  might  find  himself  obliged  to  abandon  his  faith  in  Christ,  and  adopt 
Islam.  Now,  you  will  forgive  me  for  saying  that  a  passage  in  your  letter  did 
startle  me  nearly  as  much,  when — impressed  as  it  seems  by  the  local  and 
present  authority  of  Newmanism — you  imagined  the  possibility  that  you 
might  be  forced  to  look  elsewhere  than  in  the" New  Testament  for  the  full 
picture  of  Christianity ;  that  you  might,  on  the  supposed  result  of  reading 
through  certain  books,  written  in  the  second  and  third  centuries,  be  inclined 
to  adopt  the  views  of  St.  Paul's  Judaizing  opponents,  and  reject  his  own.  j 
think  that  you  state  the  question  fairly — that  it  does  in  fact  involve  a  choice 
between  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  as  declared  by  himself  and  by  his  Apostles, 
and  that  deadly  apostacy  which  St.  Paul  in  his  lifetime  saw  threatening,— 
nay,  the  effects  of  which,  during  his  captivity,  had  well  nigh  supplanted  his 
own  Gospel  in  the  Asiatic  Churches,  and  which,  he  declares,  would  come 
speedily  with  a  fearful  power  of  lying  wonders.  The  Newmanites  would 
not,  I  think,  yet  dare  to  admit  that  their  religion  was  different  from  that  of 
he  New  Testament ;  but  I  am  perfectly  satisfied  that  it  is  so,  and  that  what 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  317 

they  call  Ecclesiastical  Tradition,  contains  things  wholly  inconsistent  with 
the  doctrines  of  our  Lord,  of  St.  Paul,  of  St.  Peter,  and  of  St.  John. 
And  it  is  because  I  see  these  on  the  one  side,  and  on  the  other  not  the 
writings  merely  of  fallible  men,  but  of  men  who,  even  in  human  matters,  are 
most  unfit  to  be  an  authority,  from  their  being  merely  the  echo  of  the 
opinions  of  their  time,  instead  of  soaring  far  above  them  into  the  regions  of 
eternal  truth ;  (the  unvarying  mark  of  all  those  great  men  who  are  and  have 
been — not  infallible  indeed — but  truly  an  authority,  claiming  a  priori  our 
deference,  and  making  it  incumbent  on  us  to  examine  well  before  we  pro- 
nounce in  the  peculiar  line  of  their  own  greatness  against  them) — because 
the  question  is  truly  between  Paul  and  Cyprian ;  and  because  all  that  is  in 
any  way  good  in  Cyprian,  which  is  much,  is  that  which  he  gained  from  Paul 
and  from  Christianity, — that  I  should  not  feel  myself  called  upon,  except 
from  local  or  temporary  circumstances,  to  enter  into  the  inquiry.  And,  if  I 
did  enter  into  it,  I  should  do  it  in  Martyn's  spirit,  to  satisfy  myself,  by  a  re- 
newed inquiry,  that  I  had  unshaken  grounds  for  rejecting  the  apostacy,  and 
for  cleaving  to  Christ  and  to  His  Apostles ;  not  as  if  by  possibility  I  could 
change  my  Master,  and  having  known  Christ  and  the  perfections  of  His 
Gospel,  could  ever,  whilst  life  and  reason  remained,  go  from  Him,  to  bow 
down  before  an  unsightly  idol. 

And  what  is  there  a  priori  to  tempt  me  to  think  that  this  idol  should  be  a 
god  ?  This,  merely, — that  in  a  time  of  much  excitement,  when  popular 
opinions  in  their  most  vulgar  form  were  very  noisy,  and  seemed  to  some 
very  alarming,  there  should  have  arisen  a  strong  reaction,  in  which  the 
common  elements  of  Toryism  and  High  Church  feeling,  at  all  times  rife  in 
Oxford,  should  have  been  moulded  into  a  novel  form  by  the  peculiar  spirit 
of  the  place, — that  sort  of  religious  aristocratical  chivalry  so  catching  to 
young  men,  to  students  and  to  members  of  the  aristocracy, — and  still  more, 
by  the  revival  of  the  spirit  of  the  Nonjurors  in  two  or  three  zealous  and  able 
men,  who  have  given  a  systematic  character  to  the  whole.  The  very  same 
causes  produced  the  same  result  after  the  Reformation  in  the  growth  and 
spread  of  Jesuitism.  No  man  can  doubt  the  piety  of  Loyola  and  many  of 
his  followers ;  yet,  what  Christian,  in  England  at  least,  can  doubt  that,  as 
Jesuitism,  it  was  not  of  God ;  that  it  was  grounded  on  falsehood,  and  strove 
to  propagate  falsehood  %  So,  again,  the  Puritans  led  to  the  Nonjurors  ; 
zealous,  many  of  them,  and  pious,  but  narrow-minded  in  the  last  degree,  fierce 
and  slanderous ;  and  even  when  they  were  opposing  that  which  was  very 
wrong,  meeting  it  with  something  as  wrong  or  worse.  Kenn,  and  Hickes, 
and  Dodwell,  and  Leslie,  are  now  historical  characters ;  we  can  see  their  party 
in  its  beginning,  middle,  and  end,  and  it  bears  on  it  all  the  marks  of  an  heresy 
and  of  a  faction,  whose  success  would  have  obstructed  good,  and  preserved 
or  restored  evil.  Whenever  you  see  the  present  party  acting  as  a  party, 
they  are  just  like  the  Nonjurors, — busy,  turbulent,  and  narrow-minded  ;  with 
no  great  or  good  objects,  but  something  that  is  at  best  fantastic,  and  generally 
mischievous.  That  many  of  these  men,  as  of  the  Nonjurors  and  of  the  Jesuits, 
are  far  better  than  their  cause  and  principles  I  readily  allow  ;  but  their  cause 
is  ever  one  and  the  same — a  violent  striving  for  forms  and  positive  institutions, 
which,  ever  since  Christ's  Gospel  has  been  preached,  has  been  always  wrong, 
— wrong  as  the  predominant  mark  of  a  party ;  because  there  has  always  been 
a  greater  good  which  needed  to  be  upheld,  and  a  greater  evil  which  needed  to 
be  combated,  even  when  what  they  upheld  was  good,  and  what  they  combated 
was  bad.  And  if  this  same  spirit  infected  the  early  Church  also,  as  from  the 
circumstances  of  the  times  and  the  position  of  the  Church  it  was  exceedingly 
likely  to  do, — if  it  infected  all  the  eminent  ecclesiastical  leaders,  whose  power 
and  influence  it  was  so  eminently  fitted  to  promote, — if  they  by  their  credit,  (in 
many  respects  most  deserved,)  persuaded  the  Church  to  adopt  it, — shall  we 
dignify  their  error  by  the  specious  name  of  the  "  Consent  of  Antiquity, '^and 
call  it  an  "  Apostolical  Tradition,"  and  think  that  it  should  guide  us  in  the 
interpretation  of  Scripture ;  when  we  see  distinctly  in  the  Scripture  itself 


318  LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

that  this  very  same  spirit  was  uniformly  opposed  to  our  Lord  and  His  Apostles, 
and  when  it  is  one  of  the  commonest  sophisms  which  History  exposes,  that 
the  principle  of  error  which  a  great  truth  had  dislodged,  should  disguise 
itself  in  the  outward  form,  and  borrow  the  nomenclature  of  the  system 
which  had  defeated  it ;  and  then  assert  that  its  nature  is  changed,  and  that 
the  truth  no  longer  condemns  it,  but  approves  it  ?  "  If  we  had  lived  in  the 
days  of  our  fathers,  we  would  not  have  been  partakers  in  the  blood  of  the 
Prophets."  "  Paul  rightly  condemned  trusting  to  circumcision,  but  baptism 
is  quite  another  thing?"  Whereas  all  the  Newmanite  language  about  bap- 
tism might  be,  and  probably  was,  used  by  the  Jews  and  Judaizers  about  cir- 
cumcision ;  the  error  in  both  is  the  same ;  i.  e.  the  teaching  that  an  outward 
bodily  act  can  have  a  tendency  to  remove  moral  evil ;  or  rather,  the  teach- 
ing that  God  is  pleased  to  act  upon  the  spirit  through  the  body,  in  a  way 
agreeable  to  none  of  the  known  laws  of  our  constitution  ;  a  doctrine  which 
our  Lord's  language  about  meats  not  defiling  a  man,  "  because  they  do  not 
go  into  the  heart,  but  into  the  belly,"  puts  down  in  every  possible  ibrm  un- 
der which  it  may  attempt  to  veil  itself. 


CLXXX.      *    TO    C.    J.    VAUGHAN,    ESQ.  ' 

Rugby,  Mai ch  4,  1838. 

You  have  my  most  hearty  congratulations  on  your  success  in  the  Ex- 
amination, which  I  believe  few  will  more  rejoice  at  than  I  do.  I  cannot  re- 
gret your  being  bracketed  with  another  man ;  for,  judging  by  my  own  feel- 
ings about  you,  his  friends  would  have  been  much  grieved  if  he  had  been 
below  you  ;  and  when  two  men  do  so  well,  there  ought,  according  to  my 
notions,  to  be  neither  a  better  nor  a  worse  of  them.  Thank  you  much  for 
your  kindness  in  sending  the  Class  paper,  and  for  your  Declamation,  which 
I  like  very  much.  How  glad  shall  I  be  to  see  you  when  your  Medal  Exam- 
ination is  over,  and  when,  the  preparation  for  life  being  ended,  you  will  be- 
gin to  think  of  life,  its  actual  self.  May  it  be  to  us  both,  my  dear  Vaughan, 
that  true  life  which  begins  and  has  no  end  in  God.  My  wife  and  the  chil- 
dren fully  share  in  our  joy  on  your  account,  and  join  in  kindest  remem- 
brances. 


CLXXXI.      TO    THE    EARL  OF  BURLINGTON, 
(Chancellor  of  the  University  of  London.) 

Rugby,  March  17,  1838. 

I  fear  that  I  may  be  too  late  in  offering  the  following  suggestions,  but  I 
had  not  observed  the  progress  of  the  Committees,  till  I  found  by  the  reports, 
which  I  received  this  morning,  that  a  resolution  had  been  passed,  but  not 
yet,  I  believe,  confirmed,  to  adopt  the  recommendation  of  the  Vice-Chan- 
cellor, that  the  Examinations  should  be  conducted  entirely  through  the  me- 
dium of  printed  papers.  I  think  that  is  a  point  on  which  the  experience  of 
Oxford,  entirely  confirmed  in  my  judgment  by  my  own  experience  here,  is 
well  deserving  of  consideration, — because  we  habitually  use  and  know  the 
value  of  printed  papers,  and  we  know  also  the  advantages  to  be  derived 
from  a  viv&  voce  examination,  of  which  Cambridge' has  made  no  trial.  I 
think  that  these  advantages  are  much  too  great  to  be  relinquished  by  us 
altogether. 

1st.  The  exercise  of  extempore  translation  is  the  only  thing  in  our  sys- 
tem of  education,  which  enables  a  young  man  to  express  himself  fluently 
and  in  good  language  without  premeditation.     Wherever  it  is  attended  to, 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


319 


it  is  an  exercise  of  exceeding  value  ;  it  is,  in  fact,  one  of  the  best  possible 
modes  of  instruction  in  English  composition,  because  the  constant  compari- 
son with  the  different  idioms  of  the  languages,  from  which  you  are  translat- 
ing, shows  you  in  the  most  lively  manner  the  peculiar  excellences  and 
defects  of  our  own  ;  and  if  men  are  tried  by  written  papers  only,  one  great 
and  most  valuable  talent,  that  of  readiness,  and  the  very  useful  habit  of  re- 
taining presence  of  mind,  so  as  to  be  able  to  avail  oneself  without  nervous- 
ness of  all  one's  knowledge,  and  to  express  it  at  once  by  word  of  mouth,  are 
never  tried  at  all. 

2nd.  Nothing  can  equal  a  viva  voce  examination  for  trying  a  candidate's 
knowledge  in  the  contents  of  a  long  history  or  a  philosophical  treatise.  I 
have  known  men  examined  for  two  hours  together  viva  voce  in  Aristotle, 
and  they  have  been  thus  tried  more  completely  than  could  be  done  by 
printed  papers  :  for  a  man's  answers  suggest  continually  further  questions ; 
you  can  at  once  probe  his  weak  points ;  and,  where  you  find  him  strong, 
you  can  give  him  an  opportunity  of  doing  himself  justice,  by  bringing  him 
out  especially  on  'those  very  points. 

3rd.  Time  is  saved,  and  thereby  weariness  and  exhaustion  of  mind,  to 
both  parties.  A  man  can  speak  faster  than  he  can  write,  and  he  is  relieved 
by  the  variety  of  the  exercise. 

4th.  The  eclat  of  a  viva  voce  examination  is  not  to  be  despised.  When 
a  clever  man  goes  into  the  schools  at  Oxford,  the  room  is  filled  with  hearers 
of  all  ranks  in  the  University.  His  powers  are  not  merely  taken  on  trust 
from  the  report  of  the  examiners ;  they  are  witnessed  by  the  University  at 
large,  and  their  peculiar  character  is  seen  and  appreciated  also.  I  have 
known  the  eloquence  of  a  man's  translations  from  the  poets  and  orators  and 
historians,  and  the  clearness  and  neatness  of  his  answers  in  his  philosophi- 
cal examination,  long  and  generally  remembered,  with  a  distinctness  of  im- 
pression very  different  from  that  produced  by  the  mere  knowledge  that  he 
is  in  the  first  class.  And  in  London,  the  advantages  of  such  a  public  viva 
voce  examination  would  be  greater  of  course  than  any  where  else,  because 
the  audience  might  be  larger  and  more   mixed. 

5th.  Presence  of  mind  is  a  quality  which  deserves  to  be  encouraged — 
nervousness  is  a  d  efect  which  men  feel  painfully  in  many  instances  through  life. 
Education  should  surely  attach  some  reward  to  a  valuable  quality  which 
may  be  acquired  in  great  measure  by  early  practice,  and  should  impose  some 
penalty  or  some  loss  on  the  want  of  it.  Now,  if  you  have  printed  papers,  you 
effectually  save  a  man  from  suffering  too  much  from  his  nervousness  ;  but  if 
you  have  printed  papers  only,  you  do  not,  I  think,  encourage  as  you  should 
do  the  excellence  of  presence  of  mind,  and  the  power  of  making  our  know- 
ledge available  on  the  instant. 

6th.  It  is  an  error  to  suppose  that  no  exact  judgment  of  a  man  can  be 
formed  from  a  viva  voce  examination.  Like  all  other  things,  such  an  exa- 
mination requires  some  attention  and  some  practice  on  the  part  of  those 
who  conduct  it;  but  all  who  have  had  much  experience  in  it  are  well  aware 
that,  combined  with  an  examination  on  paper,  it  is  entirely  satisfactory.  In 
fact,  either  system,  of  papers  or  of  viva  voce  examination,  if  practised  ex- 
clusively, does  but  half  try  the  men.  Each  calls  forth  faculties  which  the 
other  does  not  reach  equally. 

As  it  is  not  in  my  power  to  be  present  at  the  next  meetings  of  the  Uni- 
versity, I  have  ventured  to  say  thus  much  by  letter.  I  trust  that  I  shall  not 
be  thought  presumptuous  in  having  done  so. 


CLXXXII.      *TO    DR.    GREENHILL. 

Rugby,  May  15, 1838. 

I  have  been  lately  writing  and  preaching  two  sermons  on  the  subject  of 
prophecy,  embodying  some  views  which  you  may  perhaps  have  heard  from 


320  LIFE  0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

me  six  years  since,  for  they  have  been  long  in  my  mind,  although  I  never 
put  them  out  fully  in  writing.  I  have  some  thoughts  of  publishing  them 
now,  in  Oxford,  with  something  of  a  Preface,  developing  the  notions  more 
fully.  But,  ere  I  do  this,  as  I  have  never  found  any  thing  satisfactory  on 
the  subject,  I  wish  to  learn  from  one  who  admires  and  knows  pretty  thor- 
oughly, the  writings  both  of  the  early  Christian  writers  and  of  those  of  the 
Church  of  England,  what  he  would  recommend,  as  containing  a  good  view 
of  the  nature  and  interpretation  of  prophecy.  This  I  know  you  can  learn 
from  Pusey,  and  I  should  be  much  obliged  to  you  to  ask  him  ;  nor  should  I 
object  to  your  saying  that  you  are  asking  for  me ;  only  you  need  not  say 
any  thing  of  my  intended  publication,  which  indeed  is  a  very  hypothetical 
intention  after  all.  I  wish  sincerely  to  read  what  Pusey,  and  those  who 
think  with  him,  consider  as  good  on  any  subject;  on  this  particular  one,  I 
do  not  know  that  their  views  would  differ  from  mine.  My  small  respect  for 
those  writers  whom  Pusey  admires  has  been  purely  the  result  of  experi- 
ence :  whenever  I  have  read  them,  I  have  found  them  wanting.  I  should 
be  very  honestly  glad  to  find  some  one  amongst  them  who  would  give  me 
the  knowledge  which  I  want. 

We  are  all  tolerably  well,  but  the  weather  is  almost  painful  to  me  ; — it 
seems  to  inflict  such  suffering  on  all  nature. 


CLXXXIII.      TO    MR.    JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  May  18, 1838. 

The  first  volume  of  Rome  will  be  out  on  Wednesday,  and  you  will  re- 
ceive your  copy,  I  hope,  immediately.  I  ask  for  your  congratulations  on 
the  termination  of  this  part  of  my  labours,  whatever  may  be  the  merits  or 
success  of  the  book.  One  object  of  publishing  it  in  separate  volumes,  is,  that 
the  sensible  criticisms  on  the  first  may  be  of  use  to  its  successors.  I  hope 
that  I  shall  have  some  such,  and  I  shall  receive  them  very  thankfully.  I 
want  hints  as  to  points  which  require  examination,  for  I  may  pass  over 
things  through  pure  ignorance,  because  I  may  know  nothing  about  them  ; 
but  as  to  the  great  point, — the  richness  and  power  of  the  narrative. — to  that 
no  criticism  can  help  me ;  my  own  standard,  I  believe,  is  as  high  as  any 
man's  can  be,  and  my  inability  to  come  up  to  it  or  near  it  in  my  execution 
constantly  annoys  me.  Yet  I  hope  and  think  that  you  will  on  the  whole 
like  the  book ;  you  will  not  sympathize  with  all  the  sentiments  about  Aris- 
tocracy, but  I  think,  if  you  ever  see  the  subsequent  volumes,  you  will  find 
that  I  have  not  spared  the  faults  of  Democracy.  Still  I  confess  that  Aristoc- 
racy as  a  predominant  element  in  a  government,  whether  it  be  aristocracy 
of  skin,  of  race,  of  wealth,  of  nobility,  or  of  priesthood,  has  been  to  my 
mind  the  greatest  source  of  evil  throughout  the  world,  because  it  has  been 
the  most  universal  and  the  most  enduring.  Democracy  and  tyranny,  if  in 
themselves  worse,  have  been,  and  I  think  ever  will  be,  less  prevalent,  at 
least  in  Europe  ;  they  may  be  the  Cholera,  but  aristocracy  is  Consumption ; 
and  you  know  that  in  our  climate  Consumption  rs  a  far  worse  scourge,  in  the 
long  run  than  Cholera.  The  great  defect  of  the  volume  will  be  the  want 
of  individual  characters,  which  was  unavoidable,  but  yet  must  lower  the 
interest  and  the  value  of  the  history.  The  generalities  on  which  I  have 
been  obliged  to  dwell,  from  the  total  want  of  materials  for  painting  portraits, 
are  a  sad  contrast  to  those  inimitable  living  pictures  with  which  Carlyle's 
History  of  the  French  Revolution  abounds. 

[After  speaking  of  the  London  University.]  What  the  end  will  be  I 
can  scarcely  tell,  but  I  have  no  pleasure  in  remaining  in  the  University,  and 
yet  I  do  not  like  to  leave  it  till  the  very  last  moment.  It  makes  me  feel  very 
lovingly  to  Rugby,  where  I  seem  to  have,  in  principle  at  least,  what  I  most 
like, — that  is,  a  place  neither  like  the  University  of  London,  nor  yet  like  Ox- 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  321 

ford,  ....  where  we  are  not  ashamed  of  Christianity  or  of  the  Church 
of  England,  while  we  have  no  sympathy  with  those  opinions  and  feelings 
which  possess  the  majority  of  the  clergy,  from  Archbishop  Howley  down- 
wards. 


CLXXXIV.      TO    THE    BISHOP    OF   NORWICH. 

Rugby,  June  7, 1838 

I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  information  contained  in  your  letter.  I 
have  always  objected  to  the  Rule  which  you  have  marked  A  ;  whereas  I 
agree  with  Rule  B,  if  by  "  peculiarity  of  doctrinal  views  "  be  meant  the 
peculiar  opinions  of  any  denomination  of  Christians.  But  Rule  A  seems  to 
me  to  be  needlessly  offensive.  As  the  theological  examination  is  not  neces- 
sary to  the  Degree,  no  one  surely  but  Christians  would  wish  to  pass  it ;  and 
why  should  we  say  that  we  do  not  intend  it  to  imply  any  man's  belief  in 
Christianity?  I,  for  one,  could  never  examine  any  man  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment, if  I  thought  that  he  did  not  believe  it, 'or  was  not  in  a  state  of  mind  in 
which  he  was  honestly  and  respectfully  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  it  with  a 
view  to  his  religious  belief.  I  have  always  thought  that  to  examine  in  it 
merely  as  a  matter  of  curious  information  was  a  very  great  profaneness. 

Again,  have  you  thought  any  thing  more  of  what  Archbishop  Whately 
suggested  to  Dr.  Jerrard  through  Dr.  Dickenson,  that  the  certificate  of  a 
man's  Degree  should  notice  his  having  passed  the  theological  Examination  ? 
Now  I  see  that  the  theological  Examination  is  to  follow  the  Degree,  so  that 
this  cannot  be  done ;  and  the  degree  is  to  all  intents  and  purposes  complete 
before  the  theological  Examination  even  comes  into  question.  And,  when  I 
find  from  Hugh  Rose's  letter  to  Hare,  in  answer  to  some  inquiries  of  mine, 
that  he  will  care  little  whether  the  students  of  King's  College  pass  our  Ex- 
amination in  theology  or  no,  I  am  greatly  afraid  that  our  Examination  will 
fail  practically,  as  well  as  in  principle,  to  make  a  marked  distinction  between 
the  Christian  and  unchristian  students  of  our  University: — the  one  great 
point  which  Warburton  dreads,  and  I  deem  essential. 

I  cannot  disguise  from  myself  that  the  University  of  London,  in  its  public 
capacity,  cannot  be  considered  as  a  Christian  institution,  although  it  may 
happen  that  all  its  branches  individually  may  be  Christians;  and  therefore  I 
must  withdraw  from  it.  Living  at  such  a  distance  as  I  do,  I  can  be  of  no 
practical  use ;  and,  if  I  could,  I  feel  that  the  practical  good  to  the  extent 
which  alone  would  be  possible,  would  be  dearly  bought  by  my  acquiescence 
in  a  principle  which  I  so  strongly  disapprove. 

To  see  my  hopes  for  this  new  University  thus  frustrated,  is  one  of  the 
greatest  disappointments  I  have  ever  met  with'.  But  I  cannot  be  reconciled 
to  such  a  total  absence  of  all  confession  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  such  a  total 
neglect  of  the  command  to  do  all  things  in  His  name,  as  seems  to  me  to 
be  hopelessly  involved  in  the  constitutfon  of  our  University. 

As  to  the  manner  of  my  resignation,  I  would  fain  do  it  in  the  quietest 
manner  possible,  consistent  with  the  simple  declaration  of  the  reasons  which 
led  me  to  it.  I  suppose  that  the  proper  way  would  be  to  write  a  short  letter 
to  the  Chancellor. 


CLXXXV.      TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.      (D.)— ON    DIFFICULTIES    IN    SUBSCRIPTION. 

Fox  How,  June  22, 1838. 

My  own  answer  must  be  clear  to  you  from  my  own  prac- 
tice. I  do  not  believe  the  damnatory  clauses  in  the  Anthanasian  Creed, 
under  any  qualification  given  of  them,  except  such  as  substitute  for  them 
propositions  of  a  wholly  different  character.  Those  clauses  proceed  on  a 
false  notion,  which  I  have1  elsewhere  noticed,  that  the  importance  of  all 


322 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


opinions  touching  God's  nature  is  to  be  measured  by  His  greatness ;  and 
that  therefore  erroneous  notions  about  the  Trinity  are  worse  than  erroneous 
notions  about  Church  Government,  or  pious  frauds,  or  any  other  disputed 
point  on  which  there  is  a  right  and  a  wrong,  a  true  and  a  false,  and  on 
which  the  wrong  and  the  false  may  indeed  be  highly  sinful ;  but  it  does 
not  follow  that  they  must  be  ;  and  their  sinfulness  does  not  depend  upon 
their  wrongness  and  falsehood,  but  on  other  circumstances  in  the  partic- 
ular mind  of  the  person  holding  them.     But  I  read  the  Athanasian  Creed, 
and  have  and  would  again  subscribe  the  Article  about  it,  because  I  do 
not  conceive  the  clauses  in  question  to  be  essential  parts  of  it,  or  that  they 
were  retained  deliberately  by  our  Reformers  after  the  propriety  of  retain- 
ing or  expunging  them  had  been  distinctly  submitted  to  their  minds.     They 
retained  the  Creed,  I  doubt  not,  deliberately;    to  show  that  they  wished 
to  keep  the  faith  of  the  general  Church  in  matters  relating  to  the  Arian, 
Macedonian,  Nestorian,  Eutychian,  and  Socinian  controversies;  and  as  they 
did  not  scruple  to  burn  Arians,  so  neither  would  they  be  likely  to  be  shocked 
by  the  damnatory  clauses  against  them  ;  but  I  do  not  imagine  that  the  Article 
about  the  Creed  was  intended  in  the  least  to  refer  to  the  clauses,  as  if  they 
supposed  that  a  man  might  embrace  the  rest  of  the  Creed,  and  yet  reject 
them.     Nor  do  I  think  that  the  Reformers,  or  the  best  and  wisest  men  of  the 
Church  since,  would  have  objected  to  any  man's  subscription,  if  they  had 
conceived  such  a  case  ;  but  would  have  said,  "  What  we  mean  you  to  em- 
brace is  the  belief  of  the  general  Church,  as  expressed  in  the  Three  Creeds, 
with  regard  to  the  points, — many  of  them  having  been  much  disputed, — on 
which  those  Creeds  pronounce  ; — the  degree  of  blamableness  in  those  who  do 
not  embrace  this  belief  is  another  matter,  on  which  we  do  not  intend  to  speak 
particularly  in  this  Article."     I  do  not  think  that  there  is  any  thing  evasive 
or  unfair  in  this.     I  do  not  think  that  it  even  requires  in  its  defence, — what  is 
yet  most  true. — that  Church  subscriptions  must  be  taken  in  their  widest 
rather  than  in  their  strictest  sense,  except  on  points  where  they  were  espe- 
cially intended  to  be  stringent,  and  to  express  the  opposite  of  some  suspected 
opinion.     Yet,  when  you  speak  of  others  throwing  your  subscription  in  your 
teeth,  you  may  surely  say  that,  it  does  indeed  require  the  utmost  laxity  of 
interpretation  to  reconcile  Newmanism  with  a  subscription  1o  our  Articles, 
because  there,  on  points  especially  disputed,  such  as  the  Authority  of  Tra- 
dition, and  the  King's  Supremacy,  the  Church  of  England  and  the  New- 
manites  are  directly  at  variance.     As  far  as  Keble  or  Newman  are  con- 
cerned, the  most  decided  Socinian  might  subscribe  the  Articles  as  consist- 
ently as  they  do ;  but  this  of  course  is  not  the  point,  and  my  opinion  as  to 
the  damnatory  clauses,  as  it  is  much  older  than  the  rise  of  Newmanism,  so 
it  stands  on  grounds  far  different  than  a  mere  argumentum  ad  hominem,  and 
is,  I  think,  perfectly  right,  considered  simply  on  the  merits  of  the  case. 

When  the  faults  of  the  London  University  revive  all  my 

tenderness  for  Oxford,  then  the  faults  of  Oxford  repel  me  again,  and  make  it 
impossible  to  sympathize  with  a  spirit  so  uncongenial.  Wherefore  I  wish 
the  wish  of  Achilles,  when  he  looked  out  upon  the  battle  of  the  ships,  and 
desired  that  the  Greeks  and  Trojans  might  destroy  one  another,  and  leave 
the  field  open  for  better  men. 

We  had  a  very  prosperous  journey,  and  arrived  here  yesterday  evening 
about  nine  o'clock.  The  place  is  most  beautiful ;  but  the  rain  is  falling 
thick. 


CLXXXVI.      TO    T.    F.    ELLIS,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  August  29,  1838. 

Independently  of  the  real  pleasure  which  it  would  give  me  to  be  of  any  ser- 
vice to  a  friend  of  yours,  I  have  that  admiration  of  Mr.  Macaulay's  writings, 

1  Postscript  to  "  Principles  of  Church  Reform."  p,  9.     For  the  limitation  to  this 
statement,  see,  amongst  other  passages,  Sermons,  vol.  iii.  p.  140. 


LIFE    OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


323 


and  have  derived  so  much  pleasure  from  them,  that  it  would  be  but  a  mat- 
ter of  simple  gratitude  to  do  any  thing  in  my  power  towards  facilitating  his 
observations  during  his  stay  at  Rome.  I  was  there  myself  so  very  short  a 
time,  that  I  was  able  only  to  look  at  the  mere  outline  of  things ;  and  it  was 
my  object  to  go  to  as  many  of  the  higher  points  as  I  could,  in  and  about 
Rome,  that  by  getting  the  landscape  from  a  number  of  different  points  I 
might  better  understand  the  bearings  of  vts  several  parts  to  one  another. 
For  instance,  I  went  to  the  top  of  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's  ;  to  that  of  the 
tower  of  the  Capitol;  to  the  Monte  Mario  ;  the  terrace  of  the  Church  of  St. 
Pietro  in  Montorio,  (on  the  old  Janiculum,)  that  of  the  Convent  of  S.  Gre- 
gorio,  I  think  it  is,  on  the  Ccelian,  (from  which  you  look  upon  the  reverse  of 
the  Esquiline,  just  at  the  place  where  the  street  of  the  Carina?  ran  along,) 
to  the  old  mound  of  Ser.  Tullius  ;  to  the  summits  of  the  Aventine  and  Pala- 
tine, &c;  by  which  I  always  fancy  that  I  have  retained  a  more  distinct  and 
also  a  more  lively  and  picturesque  image  of  Rome  than  I  could  otherwise 
have  gained  within  the  same  space  of  time ;  and  if  I  were  to  go  again,  I 
think  I  should  do  the  same  thing.  Out  of  Rome  I  should  recommend,  as 
near  objects,  Tivoli,  of  course,  and  the  Alban  hills,  and  especially  Palestrina 
(Prseneste).  If  I  could  get  there  again,  I  should  wish  especially  to  take  the 
upper  road  from  Rome  to  Naples,  by  Palestrina,  Anagni,  Frosinone,  and 
the  valley  of  the  Garigliano.  This  is  every  way  a  most  interesting  line,  and 
it  might  easily  include  Arpino.  I  am  not  sure  where  you  would  best  come 
out  upon  the  plain  of  Naples.  I  should  try  to  get  by  S.  Germano  and  Monte 
Cassino,  into  the  great  road  from  Naples,  across  to  the  Adriatic  ;  and  so  to 
descend  by  the  Valley  of  the  Voltorno,  either  upon  Capua  or  straight  by 
Carazzo  and  Caserta. 

Much  must  depend  on  the  state  of  the  banditti,  which  is  always  known 
on  the  spot.  If  they  are  well  put  down,  as  I  believe  they  are,  the  upland 
valleys  in  the  central  Apennines  are  most  attractive.  I  had  a  plan  once  of 
turning  off  from  the  great  road  at  Terni,  then  ascending  the  valley  of  the 
Velino  to  Rieti,  and  making  my  way  through  what  they  call  the  Cicolano, — 
the  country  of  the  Aborigines  of  Cato, — down  upon  Alba  and  the  Lake  Fu- 
cinus ;  from  thence  you  can  go  either  to  Rome  or  Naples,  as  you  like.  The 
neighbourhood  of  Alba  is  doubly  interesting,  as  it  is  close  by  the  field  of 
Scurzola,  the  scene  of  Conradin's  defeat  by  Charles  of  Anjou.  In  Etrurial 
would  make  any  efforts  to  get  to  Volterra,  which  is  accessible  enough,  either 
from  Leghorn  or  from  Sienna.  If  Mr.  Macaulay  is  going  into  the  kingdom 
of  Naples,  he  will  find  Keppel  Craven's  recent  book,  "  Travels  in  the  Abruz- 
zi,"  &c,  exceedingly  useful, — as  a  regular  guide,  I  have  not  met  with  a  bet- 
ter book.  Does  he  know  Westphal's  book  on  the  Campagna  ?  lengthy,  but 
full  of  details,  which  are  carefully  done 


CLXXXVII.      TO    THE    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 
(Two  letters,  as  being  closely  connected  with  each  other,  are  here  joined.) 

(A.)  Fox  How,  August  5, 1838. 

Just  before  the  holidays,  I  had  a  letter  from  Cardwell, 

in  which  he  mentioned  that  there  was  some  scheme  for  enlarging  the  sphere 
of  the  Degree  Examination.  I  should  rejoice  at  this,  but  I  more  desire  your 
old  plan  of  an  Examination  at  entrance,  which  would  be  so  great  a  benefit 
at  once  to  you  and  to  us.  With  regard  to  the  Examinations,  I  hear  a  gen- 
eral complaint  of  the  variableness  of  the  standard  ;  that  new  Examiners  lay 
the  main  stress  on  the  most  different  things ;  with  some  Scholarship  is  every 
thing,  with  others  History,  with  others  the  Aristotle,  &c.  Now  it  is  a  very 
good  thing  that  all  these  should  have  their  turn,  and  should  all  be  insisted 
upon ;  but  I  think  that  some  notice  should  be  given  beforehand,  and  that  a 


324  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

new  Examiner  should  state,  like  the  Praetors  at  Rome,  what  points  he  intend- 
ed particularly  to  require  ;  for  at  present,  the  men  say  that  they  are  often 
led  to  attend  to  one  thing,  from  the  experience  of  the  last  Examination,  and 
then  a  new  Examiner  attaches  the  greatest  importance  to. something  else. 

(B.) 

I  hear  that  you  think  of  extending  the  range  of  your  Examina- 
tions at  Oxford,  at  which  I  wish  you  all  manner  of  success.  I  do  not  think 
that  you  need  in  the  least  to  raise  the  standard  of  your  classes,  hut  a  pass 
little  go,  or  even  great  go,  is  surely  a  ridiculous  thing,  as  all  that  the  Uni- 
versity expects  of  a  man  after  some  twelve  or  fourteen  years  of  schooling 
and  lecturing.  I  think,  too,  that  physical  science  can  nowhere  be  so  well 
studied  as  at  Oxford,  because  the  whole  spirit  of  the  place  is  against  its 
undue  ascendency ;  for  instance,  Anaiomy,  which  in  London  is  dangerously, 
as  I  think,  made  one  of  the  qualifications  for  a  degree,  might  be,  I  imagine, 
profitably  required  at  Oxford,  where  you  need  not  dread  the  low  morals  and 
manners  of  so  many  of  the  common  medical  students.     .     .     . 

I  have  read  Froude's  volume1,  and  I  think  that  its  predominant  character 
is  extraordinary  impudence.  I  never  saw  a  more  remarkable  instance  of 
that  quality  than  the  way  in  which  he,  a  young  man,  and  a  clergyman  of  the 
Church  of  England,  reviles  all  those  persons  whom  the  accordant  voice  of 
that  Church,  without  distinction  of  party,  has  agreed  to  honour,  even  per- 
haps with  an  excess  of  admiration. 


CLXXXVIII.      |  TO    THE    REV.   W.    K.    HAMILTON. 

Rugby,  October  5,  1838. 

Will  you  thank  Wordsworth  for  his  specimen  of  his  Grammar  when  you 
write  to  him  ?  I  am  glad  that  he  writes  it  in  Latin,  being  fully  convinced 
that  an  English  Grammar  will  never  be  remembered  with  equal  tenacity. 

You  are  indeed  too  much  of  a  stranger  to  us,  and  it  would  delight  us  to 
see  you  here  again,  or  still  more  to  see  you  in  Westmoreland.  But  I  know 
the  claims  of  your  parish  upon  your  time  ;  as  well  as  those  of  your  relations. 
Only,  whenever  you  can  come  to  us,  let  me  beg  that  you  will  not  let  slip  the 
opportunity 

There  seems  to  me  to  be  a  sort  of  atmosphere  of  unrest 

and  paradox  hanging  around  many  of  our  ablest  young  men  of  the  present 
day,  which  makes  me  very  uneasy.  I  do  dot  speak  of  religious  doubts,  but 
rather  of  questions  as  to  great  points  in  moral  and  intellectual  matters ; 
where  things  which  have  been  settled  for  centuries  seem  to  be  again  brought 
into  discussion.  This  restless  love  of  paradox,  is,  I  believe,  one  of  the  main 
causes  of  the  growth  of  Newmanism ;  first,  directly,  as  it  leads  men  to  dis- 
pute and  oppose  all  the  points  which  have  been  agreed  upon  in  their  own 
country  for  the  last  two  hundred  years ;  and  to  pick  holes  in  existing  reputa- 
tions ;  and  then,  when  a  man  gets  startled  at  the  excess  of  his  skepticism, 
and  finds  that  he  is  cutting  away  all  the  ground-under  his  feet,  he  takes  a 
desperate  leap  into  a  blind  fanaticism.  I  cannot  find  what  I  most  crave  to 
see,  and  what  still  seems  to  me  no  impossible  dream,  inquiry  and  belief  go- 
ing together,  and  the  adherence  to  truth  growing  with  increased  affection, 
as  follies  are  more  and  more  cast  away. 

But  I  have  seen  lately  such  a  specimen  of  this  and  of  all  other  things 
that  are  good  and  wise  and  holy,  as  I  suppose  can  scarcely  be  matched  again 
in  the  world.  Bunsen  has  been  with  us  for  six  days  with  his  wife  and  Henry. 
It  was  delightful  to  find  that  my  impression  of  his  extraordinary  excellence 
had  not  deceived  me  ;  that  the  reality  even  surpassed  my  recollection  of  what 
he  was  eleven  years  ago. 

1  i.  e.  the  first  volume  of  the  first  part  of  Froude's  Remains.  The  other  three  volumes 
he  had  not  read. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


325 


CLXXXIX.      TO    THE    EARL    OF    BURLINGTON, 
(Chancellor  of  the  University  of  London.) 

Rugby,  November  7,  1838. 

It  is  with  the  greatest  regret  that,  after  the  fullest  and  fairest  deliberation 
which  I  have  been  able  to  give  to  the  subject,  I  feel  myself  obliged  to  resign 
my  Fellowship  in  the  University  of  London. 

The  Constitution  of  the  University  seems  now  to  be  fixed,  and  it  has 
either  begun  to  work,  or  will  soon  do  so.  After  the  full  discussion  given  to 
the  question,  on  which  I  had  the  misfortune  to  differ  from  the  majority  of  the 
Senate,  I  felt  that  it  would  be  unbecoming  to  agitate  the  matter  again,  and 
it  only  remained  for  me  to  consider  whether  the  institution  of  a  voluntary 
Examination  in  Theology  would  satisfy,  either  practically  or  in  theory,  those 
principles  which  appeared  to  me  to  be  indispensable. 

I  did  not  wish  to  decide  this  point  hastily,  but  after  the  fullest  considera- 
tion and  inquiry,  I  am  led  to  the  conclusion  that  the  voluntary  Examination 
will  not  be  satisfactory.  Practically  I  fear  it  will  not,  because  the  members 
of  King's  College  will  not  be  encouraged  by  their  own  authorities,  so  far  as 
I  can  learn,  to  subject  themselves  to  it;  and  the  members  of  University  Col- 
lege may  be  supposed,  according  to  the  principles  of  their  own  society,  to  be 
averse  to  it  altogether.  But,  even  if  it  were  to  answer  practically  better  than 
I  fear  it  will  do,  still  it  does  not  satisfy  the  great  principle  that  Christianity 
should  be  the  base  of  all  public  education  in  this  country.  Whereas  with  us 
it  would  be  no  essential  part  of  one  system,  but  merely  a  branch  of  know- 
ledge which  any  man  might  pursue  if  he  liked,  but  which  he  might  also,  if 
he  liked,  wholly  neglect,  without  forfeiting  his  claim,  according  to  our  esti- 
mate, to  the  title  of  a  completely  educated  man. 

And  further,  as  it  appeared,  I  think,  to  the  majority  of  the  Senate,  that 
the  terms  of  our  Charter  positively  forbade  that  which  in  my  judgment  is 
indispensable ;  and  as  there  is  a  painfullness  in  even  appearing  to  dispute 
the  very  law  under  which  our  University  exists;  there  seems  to  me  an  addi- 
tional reason  why,  disapproving  as  I  do  very  strongly  of  that  which  is  held 
to  be  the  main  principle  of  our  Charter,  I  should  withdraw  myself  from  the 
University  altogether. 

I  trust  I  need  not  assure  your  Lordship  or  the  Senate,  that  I  am  resign- 
ing my  Fellowship  from  no  factious  or  disappointed  feeling,  or  from  any 
personal  motives  whatever.  Most  sincerely  shall  I  rejoice  if  the  University 
does  in  practice  promote  the  great  interests  to  which  the  principle  appears 
to  me  to  be  injurious.  Most  glad  shall  I  be  if  those  whose  affection  to  those 
interests  is,  I  well  know,  quite  as  sincere  and  lively  as  mine,  shall  be  found 
to  have  judged  of  their  danger  more  truly  as  well  as  more  favourably. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE,  NOVEMBER  1838  TO  SEPTEMBER  1841. 

It  is  impossible  to  mistake  the  change  which  once  more  passed 
over  his  state  of  mind  during  these  last  years  of  life — the  return, 
though  in  a  more  chastened  form,  of  the  youthful  energy  and  se- 
renity of  the  earlier  part  of  his  career  at  Rugby — the  Martinmas 
summer  succeeding  to  the  dreary  storms  with  which  he  had  been 
so  long  encompassed  ;  and  recalling  the  more  genial  season,  which 
had  preceded  them,  yet  mellowed  and  refined  by  the  experience  of 
the  intervening  period. 

His  whole  constitution  seemed  to  have  received  a  new  spring. 
"The  interest  of  life,"  to  use  his  own  description  of  middle  age,1 
"  which  had  begun  to  fade  for  himself,  revived  with  vigour  in  be- 
half of  his  children."  The  education  of  his  own  sons  in  the 
school, — his  firmer  hold  of  the  reins  of  government, — his  greater 
familiarity  with  the  whole  machinery  of  the  place, — the  increasing 
circle  of  pupils  at  the  Universities,  who  looked  upon  him  as  their 
second  father  ; — even  the  additional  bodily  health  which  he  gained 
by  resuming  in  1838  his  summer  tours  on  the  continent, — removed 
that  sense  of  weariness  by  which  he  had  been  at  times  oppressed 
amidst  his  heavy  occupations,  and  bound  him  to  his  work  at  Rugby 
with  a  closer  tie  than  ever. 

But  it  was  not  only  in  his  ordinary  work  that  a  new  influence 
seemed  to  act  upon  him  in  the  determination  which  he  formed  to 
dwell  on  those  positive  truths  on  which  he  agreed  with  others, 
rather  than  to  be  always  acting  on  the  defensive  or  offensive. 

To  this  various  causes  had  contributed, — the  weariness  of  the 
contest  of  the  last  four  years, — the  isolation  in  which  he  found 
himself  placed  after  his  failure  in  the  London  University, — the 
personal  intercoure,  now,  after  an  interval  of  eleven  years,  renewed 
with  his  friend  the  Chevalier  Bunsen, — the  recoil  which  he  felt 
from  the  skeptical  tone  of  mind  which  struck  him  as  being  at  once 
the  cause  and  effect  of  the  new  school  of  Oxford  Theology.  It 
was  in  this  spirit  that  he  struck  out  all  the  political  allusions  of  his 

1  Sermons,  vol.  i v.  p.  115. 


LIFE   OP  DR.  ARNOLD. 


327 


notes  on  Thucydides,  which  were  now  passing  through  a  second 
edition.  "  not  as  abhorring  the  evils  against  which  they  were 
directed,  less  now  than  I  did  formerly,  but  because  we  have  been 
all  of  us  taught  by  the  lessons  of  the  last  nine  years,  that,  in  politi- 
cal matters  more  especially,  moderation  and  comprehensiveness  of 
views  are  the  greatest  wisdom."1  So,  again,  in  the  hope  of  giving 
a  safer  and  more  sober  direction  to  the  excitement  then  prevailing 
in  the  country  on  the  subject  of  National  Education,  he  published 
a  Lecture  delivered  in  1838  before  the  Mechanics'  Institute  at  Rugby, 
on  the  Divisions  of  Knowledge  ;  "feeling  that  while  it  was  desi- 
rable on  the  one  hand  to  encourage  Mechanics'  Institutes  on  ac- 
count of  the  good  which  they  can  do,  it  was  no  less  important  to 
call  attention  to  their  necessary  imperfections,  and  to  notice  that 
great  good  which  they  cannot  do."  His  "  Two  Sermons  on 
Prophecy,  with  Notes,"  which  were  published  in  the  same  year, 
and  which  form  the  most  complete  and  systematic  of  any  of  his 
fragments  on  Exegetical  Theology,  he  regarded  as  a  kind  of  peace 
offering,  "  in  which  it  was  his  earnest  desire  to  avoid  as  much  as 
possible  all  such  questions  as  might  engender  strife, — that  is  to  say, 
such  as  are  connected  with  the  peculiar  opinions  of  any  of  the  va- 
rious parties  existing  within  the  Church.  And  it  must  have  been 
a  pleasure  to  him  to  witness  the  gradual  softening  of  public  feeling 
towards  himself,  not  the  least  perhaps  in  that  peaceful  visit  of  one 
day  to  Oxford,  to  see  his  friends  the  Chevalier  Bunsen  and  the 
aged  Poet  Wordsworth  receive  their  degrees  at  the  Commemora- 
tion of  1839,  when  he  also  had  the  opportunity  of  renewing 
friendly  connexions,  which  the  late  unhappy  divisions  had  inter- 
rupted. 

His  wish  for  a  closer  sympathy  and  union  of  efforts  amongst 
all  good  men  was  further  increased,  when,  in  1839-40,  his  atten- 
tion was  again  called  to  the  social  evils  of  the  country,  as  betraying 
themselves  in  the  disturbances  of  Chartism,  and  the  alarm  which 
had  possessed  him  in  1831-32  returned,  though  in  a  more  chas- 
tened form,  never  to  leave  him.  "  It  haunts  me,"  he  said,  "  I  may 
almost  say  night  and  day.  It  fills  me  with  astonishment  to  see 
anti-slavery  and  missionary  societies  so  busy  with  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  and  yet  all  the  worst  evils  of  slavery  and  of  heathenism  are 
existing  amongst  ourselves.  But  no  man  seems  so  gifted,  or  to 
speak  more  properly  so  endowed  by  God,  with  the  spirit  of  wis- 
dom, as  to  read  this  fearful  riddle  truly  ;  which  most  Sphinx-like, 
if  not  read  truly,  will  most  surely  be  the  destruction  of  us  all." 
To  awaken  the  higher  orders  to  the  full  extent  of  the  evil,  was 
accordingly  his  chief  practical  aim,  whether  in  the  Letters  which 
he  addressed  to  the  "  Hertford  Reformer,"  or  in  his  attempts  to  or- 
ganize a  Society  for  that  purpose,  as  described  in  the  ensuing  cor- 

1  The  whole  passage  in  which  this  occurs  (noticing  a  severe  attack  upon  him  intro- 
duced into  an  article  in  the  Quarterly  Review  by  "  a  writer  for  whom  he  entertained  a 
very  sincere  respect ")  well  illustrates  his  feeling  at  this  time.  (Note  on  Thucyd.  ii.  40, 
2nd  ed.) 


328  LIFE  °F   DR.  ARNOLD. 

respondence.  "  My  fear  with  regard  to  every  remedy  that  involves 
any  sacrifices  to  the  upper  classes,  is,  that  the  public  mind  is  not 
yet  enough  aware  of  the  magnitude  of  the  evil  to  submit  to  them. 
'  Knowest  thou  not  yet  that  Egypt  is  destroyed,'  was  the  question, 
put  to  Pharaoh  by  his  counsellors  ;  for  unless  he  did  know  it,  they 
were  aware  that  he  would  not  let  Israel  go  from  serving  him." 

Most  of  all  were  these  feelings  exemplified  in  his  desire,  now 
more  strong  than  ever,  for  the  revival  of  what  he  believed  to  be 
the  true  idea  of  the  Church.  "  I  am  continually  vexed,"  he  writes 
in  1840,  "  at  being  supposed  to  be  a  maintainer  of  negatives — an 
enemy  to  other  systems  or  theories,  with  no  positive  end  of  my 
own.  I  have  told  you  how  it  wearies  me  to  be  merely  opposing 
Newmanism,  or  this  thing  or  that  thing  ;  we  want  an  actual  truth, 
and  an  actual  good.  I  wish  to  deliver  myself,  if  I  can,  of  my  pos- 
itive notions, — to  state  that  for  which  I  long  so  eagerly  ;  that  glo- 
rious Church  which  Antichrists  of  all  sorts  hate  and  are  destroying. 
If  any  one  would  join  me  in  this,  I  should  rejoice  ;  many  more,  I 
feel  sure,  would  agree  with  me,  if  they  saw  that  the  truth  was  not 
destructive  nor  negative,  but  most  constructive,  most  positive." 
His  desire  for  removing  any  particular  grievances  in  the  ecclesi- 
astical system  was  proportiouably  diminished.  The  evil  to  be 
abated,  the  good  to  be  accomplished,  appeared  to  him  beyond  the 
reach  of  any  single  measure;  and  though  in  1840  he  signed  a 
Petition  for  alteration  in  the  subscription  to  the  Liturgy  and  Arti- 
cles, yet  it  had  so  little  bearing  on  bis  general  views  as  not  to  be 
worth  mention  here,  except  for  the  purpose  of  explaining  any  mis- 
apprehension of  his  doing  so.  It  was  planned  and  drawn  up  en- 
tirely without  his  participation,  and  was  only  brought  to  his  notice 
by  the  accident  of  two  of  the  principal  movers  being  personal 
friends  of  his  own.     Whatever  scruples'  he  had  once  had  on  the 

1  This  seems  the  fittest  place  for  noticing  a  previous  passage  in  his  life,  connected 
with  the  subject  of  subscription.  The  graver  difficulties,  which  Mr.  Justice  Coleridge 
has  noticed  as  attending  his  first  Ordination,  never  returned  after  the  year  1820,  when 
he  seems  to  have  arrived  at  a  complete  conviction  both  of  his  conscience  and  under- 
standing, that  there  was  no  real  ground  for  entertaining  them.  But,  during  the  inquiries 
which  he  prosecuted  at  Laleham,  there  arose  in  his  mind  scruples  on  one  or  two  minor 
questions,  which  appeared  to  him  for  a  long  time  to  present  insuperable  obstacles  to  his 
taking  any  office  which  should  involve  a  second  subscription  to  the  Articles.  "  I  attach," 
he  said,  "  no  importance  to  my  own  difference,  except  that,  however  trifling  be  the  point, 
and  however  gladly  I  would  waive  it  altogether,  still,  when  I  am  required  to  acquiesce 
in  what  1  think  a  wrong  opinion  upon  it,  I  must  declifie  compliance."  On  these  grounds 
he  long  hesitated  to  take  Priest's  Orders,  at  least  unless  he  had  the  opportunity  of  ex- 
plaining his  objections  to  the  Bishop  who  ordained  him  ;  and  it  was  in  fact  on  this  con- 
dition that,  after  his  appointment  to  Rugby,  while  still  in  Deacon's  orders,  he  consented 
to  be  ordained  by  the  Bishop  of  his  diocese,  at  that  time  Dr.  Howley  ;  as  appears  from 
the  following  extracts  from  letters,  of  which  the  first  states  his  intention  with  regard  to 
another  situation  in  1826,which  he  fulfilled  in  1828,  in  the  interval  between  his  election  at 
Rugby,  and  his  entrance  upon  his  office.  1.  "As  my  objections  turn  on  points  which  all,  I 
believe,  would  consider  immaterial  in  themselves,  I  would  consent  to  be  ordained,  if  any 
Bishop  would  ordain  me  on  an  explicit  statement  of  my  disagreement  on  those  points.  If 
he  would  not,  then  my  course  would  be  plain  ;  and  there  would  be  an  end  of  all  thought  of  it 
at  once."  2.  "  I  shall,  I  believe,  be  ordained  Priest  on  Trinity  Sunday,  being  ordained  by 
the  Bishop  of  London.     I  wished  to  do  this,  because  I  wished  to  administer  the  Sacrament 


LIFE   OF   DR,  ARNOLD.  329 

subject,  had  been  long  since  set  at  rest ;  and  it  was  merely  from 
his  unwillingness  to  let  others  bear  alone  what  he  conceived  to  be 
an  unjust  odium,  that  he  joined  in  a  measure,  from  which  he  would 
at  this  period  have  been  naturally  repelled,  both  by  his  desire  to 
allay  those  suspicions  against  him  which  he  was  now  so  anxious 
to  remove,  and  by  his  conviction  that  the  objects  which  he  most 
wished  to  attain  lay  entirely  in  another  direction. 

But  in  proportion  to  the  strength  of  his  belief  that  these  objects, 
whether  social  or  religious,  lay  beyond  the  reach  of  any  single 
measure,  or  of  any  individual  efforts,  was  the  deep  melancholy 
which  possessed  him,  when  he  felt  the  manifold  obstacles  to  their 
accomplishment.  His  favourite  expression  lydiniri  dSvvrj  nolla 
yQovt'ovTct  TifQ  ntjdwog  xQarmv, — "the  bitterest  of  all  griefs,  to  see 
clearly  and  yet  to  be  able  to  do  nothing," — might  stand  as  the  motto 
of  his  whole  mind,  as  often  before  in  his  life,  so  most  emphatically 
now.  The  Sermon  on  "  Christ's  Three  Comings,"  in  the  fifth  vol- 
ume, preached  in  1839,  truly  expresses  his  sense  of  the  state  of 
public  affairs  ; — and  in  looking  at  I  he  general  aspect  of  the  reli- 
gious world,  "  When  I  think  of  the  Church,"  he  wrote  in  1839,  "1 
could  sit  down  and  pine  and  die."  And  it  is  remarkable  to  observe 
the  contrast  between  the  joyous  tone  of  his  sermons  on  Easter 
Day,  as  the  birthday  of  Christ's  Religion,  and  the  tone  of  subdued 
and  earnest  regret  which  marks  those,  on  Whit  Sunday,  as  the 
birthday  of  the  Christian  Church  :— "Easter  Day  we  keep  as  the 
birthday  of  a  living  friend  ;  Whit  Sunday  we  keep  as  the  birthday 
of  a  dead  friend." 

Of  these  general  views,  the  fourth  volume  of  Sermons,  entitled 
"  Christian  Life,  its  Course,  its  Helps,  and  its  Hindrances,"  pub- 
lished in  May,  1841,  is  the  most  complete  expression.  It  is  true,- 
indeed,  that  in  parts  of  it  the  calmer  tone  of  the  last  few  years  is 
disturbed  by  a  revival  of  the  more  polemical  spirit,  which,  in  the 
close  of  1840,  and  the  beginning  of  1841,  was  agained  roused 
against  the  Oxford  school  of  Theology.  Tbmt  school  had  in  the 
interval  made  a  rapid  progress,  and  in  some  important  points  to- 
tally changed  its  original  aspect :  many  of  those  who  had  at  first 
welcomed  it  with  joy,  were  now  receding  from  it  in  dismay  ;  many 
of  those  who  had  at  first  looked  upon  it  with  contempt  and  repug- 

in  the  chapel  at  Rugby,  and  because  as  I  shall  have  in  a  manner  the  oversight  of  the 
chaplain,  I  thought  it  would  be  scarce  seemly  for  me  as  a  Deacon  to  interfere  with  a 
Priest ;  and  after  a  long  conversation  with  the  Bishop  of  London,  I  do  not  object  to  be 
ordained." 

This  was  the  last  time  that  he  was  troubled  with  any  similar  perplexities  ;  and  in 
later  years,  as  appears  from  more  than  one  letter  of  this  period,  he  thought  that  he  had,  in  his 
earlier  life,  overrated  the  difficulties  of  subscription.  The  particular  subject  of  his  scru- 
ples arose  from  his  doubt,  founded  chiefly  on  internal  evidence,  whether  the  Epistle  to 
the  Hebrews  did  not  belong  to  a  period  subsequent  to  the  Apostolical  age,  It  may  be 
worth  while  to  mention,  that  this  doubt  was  eventually  removed  by  an  increased  study  of 
the  Scriptures,  and  of  the  early  Christian  writers.  In  the  ten  last  years  of  his  life  he 
never  hesitated  to  use  and  apply  it  as  one  of  the  most  valuable  parts  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment :  and  his  latest  opinion  was  inclining  to  be  the  belief  that  it  might  have  been  written, 
not  merely  under  the  guidance  of  St.  Paul,  but  by  the  Apostle  himself. 

22 


330  L1FE  0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

nance,  were  now  become  its  most  active  adherents.  But  he  was 
not  a  man  whose  first  impressions  were  easily  worn  off;  and  his 
feelings  against  it,  though  expressed  in  a  somewhat  different  form, 
were  not  materially  altered  ;  he  found  new  grounds  of  offence  in 
the  place  of  old  ones  that  were  passing  away  ;  and  the  Introduc- 
tion to  this  volume, — written  at  a  time  when  his  indignation  had 
been  recently  roused  by  what  appeared  to  him  the  sophistry  of  the 
celebrated  Tract  90,  and  when  the  public  excitement  on  this  ques- 
tion had  reached  its  highest  pitch, — contains  his  final  and  delibe- 
rate protest  against  what  he  regarded  as  the  fundamental  errors  of 
the  system. 

Yet,  even  in  this,  he  brought  out  more  strongly  than  ever  the 
positive  grounds  on  which  he  felt  himself  called  upon  to  oppose  it. 

"  It  is  because  my  whole  mind  and  soul  repose  with  intense 
satisfaction  on  the  truths  taught  by  St.  John  and  St.  Paul,  that  I 
abhor  the  Judaism  of  the  Newman ites, — it  is  because  I  so  ear- 
nestly desire  the  revival  of  the  Church  that  T  abhor  the  doctrine  of 
the  priesthood."  And  this  volume,  as  a  whole,  when  taken  with 
the  one  which  has  been  already  noticed  as  preceding  it  a  few  years 
before,  may  be  said  to  give  his  full  view  of  Christianity  in  its  ac- 
tion,— not  on  individuals,  as  in  the  first  volume,  or  on  schools  as 
in  the  second, — but  on  the  world  at  large.  But  whereas  the  Ser- 
mons selected  from  the  ordinary  course  of  his  preaching,  in  the 
Third  volume,  speak  rather  of  the  Christian  Revelation  in  itself, — 
of  its  truths,  its  evidences,  and  its  ultimate  objects, — so  the  Fourth, 
as  its  title  expresses,  was  intended  to  convey  the  feeling  so  strongly 
impressed  on  his  mind  during  this  last  period,  that  these  objects 
would  be  best  attained  by  a  full  development  of  the  Church  or 
Christian  society,  whether  in  schools,  in  parishes,  or  in  States. 


CXC.      TO    THE    REV.    J.    HEARN. 

Rugby,  November  23, 1838. 

It  would  be  a  great  shame  if  I  were  to  put  off  writing  to  you  till  the 
holidays,  and  especially  after  the  long  and  kind  letter  which  I  have  received 
from  you.  .1  was  purposing  to  write  long  ago,  and  to  return  both  to  you  and 
Mrs.  Hearn  my  wife's  and  my  own  sincere  thanks  for  your  kind  hospitality 
to  us  at  Hatford,  and  to  assure  you  that  we  both  enjoyed  our  visit  exceed- 
ingly, and  have  often  since  recalled  it  to  our  memories ;  sometimes,  I  fear, 
with  almost  a  disposition  to  envy  you  the  peacefulness  and  the  comfort  of 
your  very  delightful  Parsonage  ;  the  image  of  which,  as  I  knew  it  would, 
has  haunted  me  at  times  almost  painfully,  like  the  phantoms  of  green  fields 
which  visit  the  sailor  when  he  is  attacked  with  sickness  far  out  at  sea. 
When  one  is  well,  there  is  a  kindling  pleasure  in  being  borne  rapidly  over 
the  great  sea,  and  living  in  all  the  stir  of  the  great  highway  of  nations. 
But  when  health  fails,  then  what  before  was  pleasantly  exciting  becomes  ha- 
rassing ;  and  one  indulges  in  a  fond  craving  for  rest.  Here,  thank  God,  I 
have  not  suffered  from  Jailing  health,  but  I  have  been  much  annoyed  with  the 
moral  evils  which  have  come  under  my  notice  ;  and  then  a  great  school  is 
very  trying.     It  never  can  present  images  of  rest  and  peace ;  and  when  the 


LIFE  OP   DR.  ARNOLD. 


331 


spring  and  activity  of  youth  is  altogether  unsanctified  by  any  thing  pure 
and  elevated  in  its  desires,  it  becomes  a  spectacle  that  is  as  dizzying  and 
almost  more  morally  distressing  than  the  shouts  and  gambols  of  a  set  of 
lunatics.  It  is  very  startling  to  see  so  much  of  sin  combined  with  so  little 
of  sorrow.  In  a  parish,  amongst  the  poor,  whatever  of  sin  exists,  there  is 
sure  also  to  be  enough  of  sud'ering ;  poverty,  sickness,  and  old  age  are 
mighty  tamers  and  chastisers.  But,  with  boys  of  the  richer  classes,  one 
sees  nothing  but  plenty,  health,  and  youth ;  and  these  are  really  awful  to 
behold,  when  one  must  feel  that  they  are  unblessed.  On  the  other  hand, 
few  things  are  more  beautiful,  than  when  one  does  see  all  holy  and  noble 
thoughts  and  principles,  not  the  forced  growth  of  pain  or  infirmity  or  priva- 
tion ;  but  springing  up  as  by  God's  immediate  planting,  in  a  sort  of  garden 
of  all  that  is  fresh  and  beautiful ;  full  of  so  much  hope  for  this  world  as  well 
as  for  Heaven.  All  this  has  very  much  driven  the  Newmanites  out  of  my 
head  ;  and  indeed,  while  I  am  here,  I  see  and  hear  very  little  of  them,  but  I 
quite  think  they  are  a  great  evil,  and  I  fear  a  growing  one ;  though  on  this 
point  I  find  that  opinions  differ. 

I  could  not  express  my  sense  of  what  Bunsen  is  without 

seeming  to  be  exaggerating;  but  I  think  if  you  could  hear  and  see  him. 
even  for  one  half  hour,  you  would  understand  my  feeling  towards  him.  He 
is  a  man  in  whom  God's  graces  and  gifts  are  more  united  than  in  any  other 
person  whom  I  ever  saw.  I  have  seen  men  as  holy,  as  amiable,  as  able  ; 
but  I  never  knew  one  who  was  all  three  in  so  extraordinary  a  degree,  and 
combined  with  a  knowledge  of  things  new  and  old,  sacred  and  profane,  so 
rich,  so  accurate,  so  profound,  that  I  never  knew  it  equalled  or  approached 
by  any  man. 

November  28th. — This  letter  has  waited  for  five  days,  and  I  must  now 
manage  to  finish  it.  I  have  been  much  distressed,  also,  by  the  accounts  of 
the  alarming  agitation  which  is  going  on  in  the  manufacturing  districts 
of  Yorkshire  and  Lancashire  ;  an  agitation  not  political  merely,  but  social, 
complaining  of  the  unequal  reward  of  labour,  and  inveighing  against  capi- 
tal and  capitalists  in  no  gentle  terms.  Believing  this  to  be  peculiarly  our 
sore  spot,  any  irritation  in  it  always  disturbs  me ;  and  I  have  been  tempted 
to  write  again  on  the  subject,  as  I  did  in  1831  in  the  Sheffield  Letters.  One 
man's  writing  can  do  but  little,  I  know ;  but  there  is  the  wish,  '•  liberare 
animam  meam,"  and  the  hope  that  all  temperate  and  earnest  writing  on 
such  a  subject  must  do  good  as  far  as  it  is  read, — must  lead  men  to  think 
and  feel  quietly,  if  it  be  but  for  a  moment.  My  history  gets  on  but  slowly, 
but  still  it  does  make  some  progress,  as  much  as  I  can  expect  here.  I  am 
trying  to  learn  a  little  Hebrew,  but  I  do  not  know  whether  I  shall  be  able  to 
make  much  of  it ;  it  is  so  difficult  to  find  time  to  learn,  and  so  irksome  to 
remember  the  minute  rules  about  the  alteration  of  the  vowels.  But  I  should 
like  on  many  accounts,  to  make  some  progress  in  it.  Is  it  not  marvellous 
that  they  can  now  read  the  old  Egpytian  readily,  and  understand  its  gram- 
mar? It  combines,  as  I  hear,  some  of  the  characteristic  peculiarities  of  the 
Semitic  languages  with  others  belonging  to  the  Indo-Germanic  family,  as  if 
it  belonged  to  a  period  previous  to  the  branching  off"  of  these  two  great 
families  from  their  common  stock.  But  these  Egyptian  discoveries  are 
likely  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  wonders  of  our  age.  What  think  you  of 
actual  papyrus  MSS.  as  old  as  the  reign  of  Psammitichus  7  and  these,  too, 
in  great  numbers,  and  quite  legible. 


CXCI.   TO  THE  CHEVALIER  BUNSEN. 


Rugby,  November  9,  1838. 

.     .     .     .     .     .1  thank  you  very  much  for  your  valuable   notes  on  my 

MS.  about  the  Church.     I  am  sure  you  will  believe  me  when  I  say  that  on 


332  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

such  a  matter  especially,  "paene  religio  mihi  est  alitor  ac  tu  sentire."  And 
in  one  main  point  you  agree  with  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  who  is  a  man 
so  unlike  you,  and  yet  so  able,  that  your  agreement  on  any  point  is  of  very 
great  weight.  You  interpret,  I  think,  as  he  does,  our  Lord's  words,  "  that 
His  kingdom  was  not  of  this  world,"  and  you  hold  that  the  Church  may 
not  wield  the  temporal  sword.  This  is  undoubtedly  the  turning  point  of  the 
whole  question  ;  and  if  you  are  right  in  these  positions,  it  follows  undoubt- 
edly that  the  Church  never  can  be  a  sovereign  society,  and  therefore  can 
never  be  identical  with  a  Christian  State. 

Now  I  want  to  know  what  principles  and  objects  a  Christian  State  can 
have,  if  it  be  really  Christian,  more  or  less  than  those  of  the  Church.  In 
whatever  degree  it  differs  from  the  Church,  it  becomes,  I  think,  in  that  exact 
proportion  unchristian.  In  short,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  State  must  be  "  the 
world,"  if  it  be  not  "  the  Church  :"  but  for  a  society  of  Christians  to  be 
"  the  world"  seems  monstrous.  Nor  can  I  understand,  if  this  be  so,  how 
any  Christian  can  take  a  part,  otherwise  than  as  passively  obeying,  in  the 
concerns  of  Government.  If  i\  no).nf(a  fj/naiv  lv  ovoavw,  then  we  are  in  the 
world  as  livot  or  (iitowoi,,  and  should  not  be  "  curiosi  in  aliena  republica." 
I  think,  then,  that  St.  Paul's  command  to  the  Christians  of  Corinth  would 
apply  to  us,  and  that  we  ought  never  to  carry  a  cause  into  any  other  than 
ecclesiastical  courts ;  for,  if  the  civil  courts  are  not  really  Church  courts, 
they  are  not  the  courts  of  the  ayioi,  but  of  the  world  ;  and  the  world  cannot 
and  ought  not  to  judge  between  Christian  and  Christian. 

When  Christ  said,  that  his  kingdom  was  not  of  this  world,  and  forbade 
James  and  John  to  call  down  fire  from  heaven,  &c,  His  meaning  seems  to 
me  to  have  been  this,  that  moral  and  religious  superiority,  i.  e.  the  being 
Christians,  did  not  confer  any  title  to  physical  and  external  dominion.1  The 
saints,  as  such,  are  not  to  claim  to  exercise  power ;  and  this,  I  think,  is  the 
bar  to  religious  persecution,  because  it  is  not  the  possession  of  religious  su- 
periority that  warrants  us  in  exercising  physical  power  over  other  men. 
This  bars  the  fanatical  doctrine,  that  the  earth  belongs  to  God's  saints  ;  it 
bars  also,  as  I  think,  all  minor  phases  of  the  same  doctrine  ;  and  especially, 
I  think,  it  condemns  the  maintaining  by  force  a  Protestant  Establishment  in 
a  Roman  Catholic  country,  as  we  do  in  Ireland. 

But, — government  being  in  itself  good,  and  declared  to  be  God's  instru- 
ment for  the  punishment  of  evil  and  the  advancement  of  good, — what  possi- 
ble objection  can  there  be  to  its  being  exercised  by  Christians,  when  they 
become  possessed  of  it  according  to  the  ordinary  laws  of  human  society  ? 
And  if  Christians  exercise  it  they  must  do  it  either  on  the  principles  of  the 
world,  or  of  the  Church  ;  but  it  can  be  only  on  the  latter,  for  otherwise  they 
would  be  false  Christians. 

Again,  the  I'oyov  of  a  Christian  State  and  Church  is  absolutely  one  and 
the  same ;  nor  can  a  difference  be  made  out  which  shall  not  impair  the 
Christian  character  of  one  or  both  ;  as,  e.  g.  if  the  i\>yov  of  the  State  be  made 
to  be  merely  physical  or  economical  good,  or  that  of  the  Church  be  made  to 
be  the  performing  of  a  ritual  service. 

It  is  said  that  the  State  can  never  be  kept-sufficiently  pure  to  be  worthy 
of  being  considered  as  the  Church  ;  but  this  to  me  is  a  confusion.  Purity 
and  extent,  whether  as  Church  or  State,  are  to  a  certain  degree  incompati- 
ble.    A  large  church  relaxes  discipline,  and  for  this  very  reason,  F 

will  not  belong  to  the  Church  of  England.  On  the  other  hand,  States  can 
and  have  enforced  the  greatest  strictness  of  life,  as  at  Sparta ;  and  the  law 
can  always  insist  upon  any  thing  which  is  called  for  by  public  opinion.  To 
make  public  opinion  really  Christian  is  difficult ;  but  it  is  a  difficulty  which 

1  "  Was  Theodosius  right  or  wrong  in  changing  the  temples  into  churches  ?  Wrong, 
if  he  did  it  because  in  his  belief  Christianity  was  the  only  true  faith, — right,  if  he  did  it 
because  the  Roman  world  was  become  Christian,  and  chose  to  have  its  public  worship 
Christian  also." — MS.  Comments  on  Archbishop  Whateley's  Kingdom  of  Christ. 


LIFE   OP    DR.  ARNOLD.  333 

exists  as  much  in  a  Church  as  in  a  Christian  state  ;  those  who  are  nominal 
Christians  in  one  relation  will  be  so  in  the  other.  I  could  add  much  more 
on  this  point;  but  this  will  be  enough  to  show  you  that  I  do  not  differ  from 
you  without  consideration.  But,  as  the  book  is  in  no  danger  of  being  pub- 
lished yet,  there  will  be  ample  time  to  go  over  the  question  again  fully,  and 
also  to  add  those  explanations  which  the  naked  statements  in  the  MS.  seem 
to  require. 

Another  point,  on  which  I  do  not  seem  as  yet  fully  to  enter  into  your 
views,  relates  to  what  you  say  of  the  Sacraments.  I  do  not  quite  under- 
stand the  way  in  which  you  seem  to  connect  the  virtue  of  external. ordinan- 
ces with  the  fact  of  the  Incarnation.  My  own  objection  to  laying  a  stress  on 
the  material  elements, — as  distinct  from  the  moral  effect  of  the  Communion, 
or  of  the  becoming  introduced  into  the  Christian  Society,— is  very  strong, 
because  I  think  that  such  a  notion  is  at  variance  with  the  essential  character 
of  Christianity.  I  am  sure  that  in  this  we  agree  ;  but  yet  I  think  that  we 
should  express  ourselves  differently  about  the  Sacraments,  and  here  I  be- 
lieve that  you  have  got  hold  of  a  truth  which  is  as  yet  to  me  dark  ;  just  as  I 
cannot  understand  music,  yet  nothmg  doubt  that  it  is  my  fault,  and  not  that 
of  music. 


CXCII.       TO    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Fox  How,  January  12,  1839. 

When  I  found  how  entirely  I  agreed  with  your  Sermon  on 

Private  Judgment,  it  struck  me  that  I  had  taken  rather  too  indifferently  the 
sort  of  vague  odium  which  has  been  attached  to  my  opinions,  or  supposed 
opinions,  for  the  last  ten  years  in  Oxford ;  that  I  had  forfeited  a  means  of 
influence  which  I  might  have  had,  and  which  would  have  been  a  valuable 
addition  to  what  I  have  enjoyed  among  my  own  pupils  at  Rugby.  I  do  not 
mean  any  thing  political,  nor  indeed  as  to  the  right  or  the  wrong  of  my 
opinions  on  any  matter,  because  I  have  held  them  decidedly  and  expressed 
them  openly,  and  people  who  differ  from  me  will  of  course  think  me  wrong. 
But  I  think  I  have  endured  too  quietly  a  suspicion  affecting  me  more  directly 
professionally  ;  a  suspicion  of  heterodoxy  such  as  was  raised  against  Hamp- 
den, and  which  would  exclude  me  from  preaching  before  the  University; 
an  office  to  which  otherwise  I  think  I  should  have  a  fair  claim,  from  my 
standing,  and  from  my  continued  connexion  with  the  University  through  the 
successive  generations  of  my  pupils.  Now  this  suspicion  is,  I  contend,  per- 
fectly unfounded  in  itself,  and  at  the  present  moment  it  is  ridiculous  ;  because 
the  Newmanites  are  far  more  at  variance  with  the  Articles,  Liturgy,  and 
Constitution  of  the  Church  of  England  than  any  clergymen  have  been  within 
my  memory ;  and  yet  even  those  who  most  differ  from  them  do  not  endea- 
vour, so  far  as  I  know,  to  hinder  them  from  preaching  in  Oxford.  I  am  per- 
fectly aware  that  my  opinion  about  the  pretended  Apostolical  succession  is 
different  from  that  of  most  individual  clergymen,  but  I  defy  any  man  to  show 
that  it  is  different  from  the  opinion  of  the  Church  of  England  ;  and,  if  not,  it 
is  fairly  an  open  question  on  which  any  man  may  express  his  own  opinion 
peaceably  ;  and  he  is  the  schismatic  who  would  insist  upon  determining  in 
his  own  way  what  the  Church  has  not  determined.  But  in  what  is  commonly 
called  doctrine,  as  distinct  from  discipline,  I  do  not  think  that  any  thing  can 
be  found  in  any  of  my  sermons,  published  or  not  published,  which  is  more 
at  variance  with  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  than  what  is  to  be  found  in  the 
sermons  of  any  other  man  who  has  written  as  many  ;  and  not  only  so,  but  I 
think  there  is  no  negative  difference;  that  is,  I  think  there  would  be  found 
no  omission  of  any  points  which  the  Reformers  would  have  thought  essen- 
tial, bating  some  particular  questions  which  were  important  then,  and  are 
now  gone  by.     I  am  perfectly  willing  to  bear  my  portion  of  odium  for  all  that 


334  LIFE  °F  DR.  ARNOLD. 

I  really  have  written,  and  the  Newmanites  may  fairly  speak  against  my 
opinions  as  I  do  against  theirs.  But  a  vague  charge  of  holding,  not  wrong, 
but  technically  unorthodox  opinions,  affects  a  man's  professional  usefulness 
in  a  way  that  in  any  other  profession  would  be  thought  intolerable  ;  and,  in 
fact,  in  other  professions  men  would  be  ashamed  or  afraid  to  breathe  it.  I 
have  gone  on  with  it  quietly  for  a  long  time,  partly  because  no  charge  has 
ever,  been  brought  against  me  which  I  could  answer,  and  partly  because, 
whilst  I  was  so  fully  engaged  at  Rugby,  I  was  not  practically  reminded  of 
it.  But  as  I  grow  older,  and  the  time  is  approaching  more  and  more  when 
I  must,  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  be  thinking  of  leaving  Rugby,  and 
when  I  see  a  state  of  things  in  Oxford  which  greatly  needs  the  help  of  every 
man  interested  about  the  University, — when  I  see  that  you  are  doing  a  great 
deal  of  good,  and  without  any  question  of  your  orthodoxy,  so  far  as  I  know, 
and  yet  know  that  in  my  constant  preaching  there  is  as  little  that  any  body 
could  call  heterodox  as  in  yours, — it  makes  me  feel  that  I  ought  not  silently 
to  bear  a  sort  of  bad  name,  which  to  man  or  dog  is  little  better  than  hang- 
ing ;  and  that  it  would  be  desirable,  if  there  really  is  a  similar  feeling  against 
me  to  that  which  exists  against  Hampdeti,  to  get  it  if  possible  into  some  tan- 
gible shape.  I  wish  you  would  think  of  this  matter  a  little,  and  give  me 
your  judgment.  We  are  all  well  and  enjoying  this  rest,  which  enables  me 
to  work  and  to  gain  refreshment  at  the  same  time. 


CXCIII.      TO    J.  C.  PLATT,    ESQ. 

Fox  How,  January  20,  1839. 

I  have  often-  thought  of  you  and  the  Courant    during 

this  new  excitement  of  the  operative  population.  Most  gladly  would  I  join 
in  any  feasible  attempt  to  check  this  terrible  evil,  which  men  seem  to  regard 
as  so  hopeless  that  they  would  rather  turn  their  eyes  away  from  it,  and  not 
look  at  it  till  they  must.     But  that  "  must "  will  come,  I  fear,  but  too  soon  ; 

simply  because  they  will  not  look  at  it  now I  am  inclined 

to  think,  that  the  Poor  Law,  though  I  quite  believe  it  to  be  in  itself  just  in 
its  principle,  has  yet  done  more  moral  harm,  by  exasperating  the  minds  of 
the  poor,  than  it  can  possibly  have  done  good.  I  am  very  far,  however, 
from  wishing  to  return  to  the  old  system  ;  but  I  think  that  the  Poor  Law 
should  be  accompanied  by  an  organized  system  of  Church  charity,  and  also 
by  some  acts  designed  in  title,  as  well  as  in  substance,  for  the  relief  of  the 
poor,  and  that  by  other  means  than  by  driving  them  into  economy  by  terror. 
Economy  itself  is  a  virtue  which  appears  to  me  to  imply  an  existing  pre- 
vious competence  ;  it  can  surely  have  no  place  in  the  most  extreme  poverty ; 
and  for  those  who  have  a  competence  to  require  it  of  those  who  have  not, 

seems  to  me  to  be  something  like  very  mockery I  shall  be  in 

London,  I  hope,  on  the  6th,  and  shall  be  staying  at  No.  1,  Tavistock  Square. 
If  I  can  see  you  either  there,  or  by  calling  on  you  in  Ludgate  Street,  it 
will  give  me  much  pleasure. 


CXCIV.       TO    REV.  F.  C.   BLACKSTONE. 

Rugby,  February  25,  1839. 

I  read  and  have  got  Gladstone's  book,  and  quite  agree 

with  you  in  my  admiration  of  its  spirit  throughout ;  I  also  like  the  sub- 
stance of  about  half  of  it;  the  rest  of  course  appears  to  me  erroneous.  But 
it  must  be  good  to  have  a  public  man  writing  on  such  a  subject,  and  it  de- 
lights me  to  have  a  good  protest  against  that  wretched  doctrine  of  Warbur- 
ton's,  that  the  State  has  only  to  look  after  body  and  goods.     "  Too  late," 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  335 

however,  are  the  words  which  I  should  be  inclined  to  affix  to  every  plan  for 
reforming  society  in  England ;  we  are  engulphed,  I  believe,  inevitably,  and 
must  go  down  the  cataract;  although  ourselves,  i.  e.  you  and  I,  may  be  in 
Hezekiah's  case,  and  not  live  to  see  the  catastrophe. 

I  thank  you  very  much  for  your  truly  kind  offer  of  assistance  about  the 
Roman  History.  If  any  man  were  reading  Augustine  or  any  other  writer 
for  his  own  purposes,  and  took  notes  of  such  points  as  you  mention,  there  is 
no  doubt  that  his  notes  would  be  very  useful  to  me ;  but  there  is  this  objec- 
tion against  asking  any  body  to  read  for  my  purposes,  that  the  labour  saved 
to  me  might  not  be  in  proportion  to  that  which  I  was  imposing  on  him. 
Such  notes  as  you  suggest  would  be  like  an  exceedingly  good  index ;  but 
they  must  rather  guide  my  own  researches  than  supersede  them ;  for  it  is,  I 
think,  absolutely  necessary  to  look  through  for  oneself  all  the  most  important 
works  which  relate  to  one's  period  of  history.  I  shall  save  myself  many  or 
most  of  the  Byzantine  writers  by  stopping  at  any  rate  in  the  eighth  century, 
and  confining  myself  chiefly  to  the  Latin  empire. 

I  think  that,  hard  as  the  Agrarian  questions  are,  they 

connect  themselves  with  one  almost  harder,  namely,  "  How  can  slavery  be 
really  dispensed  with  ?"  It  is,  of  course,  perfectly  easy  to  say  that  we  will 
have  no  slaves,  but  it  is  not  quite  so  easy  to  make  all  the  human  inhabitants 
of  a  country  what  free  citizens  ought  to  be  ;  and  the  state  of  our  railway 
navigators  and  cotton  operatives  is  scarcely  better  for  themselves  than  that 
of  slaves,  either  physically  or  morally,  and  is  far  more  perilous  to  society. 
It  is  when  I  see  all  these  evils,  which  I  believe  the  Church  was  meant  to 
remove,  that  I  groan  over  that  fatal  system  which  has  so  utterly  destroyed 
it ;  that  system  of  substituting  unrealities  for  realities,  which  Newman  and 
his  party  are  striving  to  confirm  and  to  propagate.  But  -I  feel  also,  that 
even  a  sham  is  better  to  most  minds  than  nothing  at  all ;  and  that  New- 
manism  ought  not  to  be  met  with  negatives,  by  trying  to  prove  it  to  be 
false,  but  by  something  positive,  such  as  the  real  living  Church  would  be. 
And  how  is  the  Church  to  be  revived?  So  Nevvmanism,  I  suppose,  will 
grow  and  grow,  till  it  provokes  a  reaction  of  infidelity,  and  then  infidelity 
will  grow  and  grow,  till  up  starts  Newmanism  again  in  such  form  as  it  may 
wear  in  the  twentieth  or  twenty-first  century. 


CXCV.       *  TO    A.  P.   STANLEY,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  February  27,  1839. 

The  stir  about.  Church  matters,  of  which  Gladstone's 

book  is  a  symptom,  interests  me,  of  course,  and  on  the  whole  delights  me. 
Any  thing  on  such  a  point  is,  I  believe,  better  than  the  mere  ignorance  of 
inditference.  But  I  am  more  and  more  anxious  to  organize,  I  do  not  say  a 
party,  for  I  dislike  all  parties ;  but  a  system  of  action  for  those  who  ear- 
nestly look  to  the  Church  as  the  appointed  and  only  possible  means  of  all 
earthly  improvement  for  society,  whether  in  its  larger  divisions  or  in  its 
smaller.  Nothing  can  or  ought  to  be  done  by  merely  maintaining  negatives ; 
I  will  neither  write  nor  talk  if  I  can  help  it  against  Newmanism,  but  for 
that  true  Church  and  Christianity,  which  all  kinds  of  evil,  each  in  its  ap- 
pointed time,  have  combined  to  corrupt  and  destroy.  It  seems  to  me,  that 
a  great  point  might  be  gained  by  urging  the  restoration  of  the  Order  of 
Deacons,  which  has  been  long,  quoad  the  reality,  dead.  In  large  towns 
many  worthy  men  might  be  found  able  and  willing  to  undertake  the  office 
out  of  pure  love,  if  it  were  understood  to  be  not  necessarily  a  step  to  the 
Presbyterial  order,  nor  at  all  incompatible  with  lay  callings.  You  would 
get  an  immense  gain  by  a  great  extension  of  the  Church, — by  a  softening 
down  that  pestilent  distinction  between  clergy  and  laity,  which  is  so  closely 
linked  with  the  priestcraft  system, — and  by  the  actual  benefits,  temporal  and 


336  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

spiritual,  which  such  an  additional  number  of  ministers  would  ensure  to  the 
whole  Christian  congregation.  And  I  believe  that  the  proposal  involves  in 
it  nothing  which  ought  to  shock  even  a  Newmanite.  The  Canon  Law,  I 
think,  makes  a  very  wide  distinction  between  the  Deacon  and  the  Presbyter  ; 
the  Deacon  according  to  it,  is  half  a  Layman ;  and  could  return  at  any  time 
to  a  lay  condition  altogether ;  and  I  suppose  no  one  is  so  mad  as  to  maintain 
that  a  minister  abstaining  from  all  secular  callings  is  a  matter  of  necessity, 
seeing  that  St.  Paul  carried  on  his  trade  of  tentmaker  even  when  he  was 
an  Apostle.  Of  course  the  Ordination  Service  might  remain  just  as  it  is  ; 
for  in  fact  no  alteration  in  the  law  is  needed ;— it  is  only  an  alteration  in  cer- 
tain customs  which  have  long  prevailed,  but  which  have  really  no  authority. 
It  would  be  worth  while,  I  think,  to  consult  the  Canon  Law  and  our  own 
Ecclesiastical  Law,  so  far  as  we  have  any,  with  regard  to  the  Order  of 
Deacons.  I  have  long  thought  that  some  plan  of  this  sort  might  be  the 
small  end  of  the  wedge,  by  which  Antichrist  might  hereafter  be  burst  asun- 
der like  the  Dragon  of  Bel's  temple. 


CXCVI.       *  TO    J.    P.    GELL,    ESQ.. 

Rugby,  March  15,  1839. 

I  have  just  received  a  letter  from  Sir  John  Franklin,  who,  as  you  know, 
is  Governor  of  Van  Diemen's  Land,  accompanied  by  one  from  the  Colonial 
Office,  asking  me  to  recommend  some  man  as  Head  Master  of  a  great 
school  in  Van  Dtemen's  Land,  which  it  is  wished  to  establish  on  the  very 
highest  scale,  in  the  hope  that  it  may  hereafter  become  a  College  or  Uni- 
versity for  that  part  of  the  world.  [After  stating  the  nature  of  the  situation.] 
He  enters  at  length  and  with  all  his  heart  into  the  plan ;  and  from  what  he 
tells  me  of  the  capabilities  and  the  wants  of  the  situation,  I  know  of  no  man 
whom  I  could  so  much  wish  to  see  intrusted  with  it  as  yourself,  if  you 
should  feel  disposed  to  let  me  name  you  to  Lord  Normartby.  It  is  a  most 
noble  field,  and  in  Franklin  himself  you  will  have  a  fellow  labourer,  and  a 
Governor  with  and  under  whom  it  would  do  one's  heart  good  to  work.  He 
wants  a  Christian,  a  gentleman,  and  a  scholar, — a  member  of  one  of  our 
Universities, — a  man  of  ability  and  of  vigour  of  character, — to  become  the 
father  of  the  education  of  a  whole  quarter  of  the  globe;  and  to  assist,  under 
God's  blessing,  and  with  the  grace  of  Christ's  Spirit,  in  laying  the  founda- 
tions of  all  good  and  noble  principles,  not  only  in  individual  children,  but  in 
an  infant  nation,  which  must  hereafter  influence  the  world  largely  for 
good  or  for  evil.  And  I  think  that,  if  you  could  feel  disposed  to  undertake 
this  great  missionary  labour,  you  would  work  at  it  in  the  spirit  of  Christ's 
servant,  and  would  become  the  instrument  of  blessings,  not  to  be  numbered, 
to  thousands,  and  would  for  yourself  obtain  a  y.donov  l\>yov,  such  as  can 
rarely  be  the  fortune  of  the  most  ambitious.  Let  me  know  your  mind  as 
soon  as  you  can  decide  on  a  matter  which  you,  I  am  sure,  will  not  treat 
lightly.  Give  my  kindest  regards  to  your  father,  towards  whom  I  feel  more 
guilty  than  towards  any  one  else  ;  for  I  am  afratd  that  he  and  your  mother 
will  not  thank  me  for  making  such  a  proposal.  But  I  believe  you  to  be  so 
eminently  the  man  for  such  an  undertaking,  that  I  could  not  acquit  myself 
of  my  commission  to  the  Government,  without  naming  it  to  you.  Your 
brother  is  very  well,  and  writing  Greek  verse  close  by  my  side,  seeing  that 
it  is  Fourth  Lesson.  I  hope  that  you  can  give  me  good  accounts  of  your 
brother  Charles. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  337 

CXCVII.   TO  THE  UNDER  SECRETARY  OF  STATE. 

(Relating  to  the  College  in  Van  Dieinen's  Land.) 

Rugby,  March  19,  1839. 

Some  expressions  in  your  letter  lead  me  to  ask  whether, 

if  the  person  appointed  to  the  school  were  not  in  orders,  there  would  be  an 
"objection  on  the  part  of  the  Government  to  his  entering  into  them  before  he 
left  England  1  Because,  I  think  that  many  persons  best  fitted  to  carry  on  the 
work  of  education,  would  be  actually  unwilling  to  engage  in  it  unless  they 
were  allowed  to  unite  the  clerical  character  with  that  of  the  teacher.  This 
feeling  is,  I  confess,  entirely  my  own.  Even  in  a  far  lower  point  of  view,  as 
to  what  regards  the  position  of  a  schoolmaster  in  society,  you  are  well  aware 
that  it  has  not  yet  obtained  that  respect  in  England,  as  to  be  able  to  stand 
by  itself  in  public  opinion  as  a  liberal  profession ;  it  owes  the  rank  which  it 
holds  to  its  connexion  with  the  profession  of  a  clergyman,  for  that  is  acknow- 
ledged universally  in  England  to  be  the  profession  of  a  gentleman.  Mere 
teaching,  like  mere  literature,  places  a  man,  I  think,  in  rather  an  equivocal 
position ;  he  holds  no  undoubted  station  in  society  by  these  alone ;  for  nei- 
ther education  nor  literature  have  ever  enjoyed  that  consideration  and  gen- 
eral respect  in  England,  which  they  enjoy  in  France  and  in  Germany.  But 
a  far  higher  consideration  is  this,  that  he  who  is  to  educate  boys,  if  he  is 
fully  sensible  of  the  importance  of  his  business,  must  be  unwilling  to  lose 
such  great  opportunities  as  the  clerical  character  gives  him,  by  enabling  him 
to  address  them  continually  from  the  pulpit,  and  to  administer  the  Com- 
munion to  them  as  they  become  old  enough  to  receive  it.  And  in  a  remote 
colony  it  would  be  even  more  desirable  than  in  England,  that  the  head  of  a 
great  institution  for  education  should  be  able  to  stand  in  this  relation  to  his 
pupils ;  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  the  spirit  of  proselytism,  which  some  persons 
appear  so  greatly  to  dread,  would  no  more  exist  in  a  good  and  sensible 
clergyman,  than  in  a  good  and  sensible  layman.  Your  master  must.be  a 
member  of  some  Church  or  other,  if  he  is  not  a  minister  of  it ;  if  he  is  a 
sincere  member  of  it,  and  fitted  to  give  religious  instruction  at  all,  he  must 
be  anxious  to  inculcate  its  tenets ;  but,  if  he  be  a  man  of  judgment  and  hon- 
esty, and  of  a  truly  Catholic  spirit,  he  will  find  it  a  still  more  sacred  duty 
not  to  abuse  the  confidence  of  those  parents  of  different  persuasions  who  m  ay 
have  intrusted  their  children  to  his  care,  and  he  will  think  besides  that  the 
true  spirit  of  a  Christian  teacher  is  not  exactly  the  spirit  of  proselytism.  I 
must  beg  to  apologize  for  having  trespassed  on  your  time  thus  long. 


CXCVIII.      *   TO    E.    WISE,    ESQ.. 

Rugby,  March  20,  1839. 

Your  letter  gave  me  very  great  pleasure,  and  I  was  really  obliged  to  you 
for  writing  at  such  length,  and  giving  me  a  full  account  of  all  the  circum- 
stances of  your  present  situation.  Every  thing  in  a  position  like  yours  de- 
pends on  the  disposition  and  character  of  the  family ;  and  where  these  are 
good  and  kind,  the  life  of  a  tutor  may  be  as  pleasant,  I  think,  as  it  is  useful 
and  respectable 

I  trust  that  your  health  is  completely  restored,  and  that  you  will  be  able  to 
read  gently,  without  feeling  it  a  matter  of  necessity ;  a  sensation  which  I 
suppose  must  aggravate  the  pressure  greatly  when  a  man  is  reading,  and 
feels  himself  not  strong.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  you  need  not  think  that 
your  own  reading  will  now  have  no  object,  because  you  are  engaged  with 
young  boys.  Every  improvement  of  your  own  powers  and  knowledge,  tells 
immediately  upon  them  :  and  indeed  I  hold  that  a  man  is  only  fit  to  teach 
so  long  as  he  is  himself  learning  daily.     If  the  mind  once  becomes  stagnant, 


338  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

it  can  give  no  fresh  draught  to  another  mind  ;  it  is  drinking  out  of  a  pond, 
instead  of  from  a  spring.  And  whatever  you  read  tends  generally  to  your 
own  increase  of  power,  and  will  be  felt  by  you  in  a  hundred  ways  hereafter. 


CXCIX.       *    TO    J.    P.    GELL,    ESQ. 

(On  the  death  of  his  brother,  Charles  Gell.) 

Rugby,  April  5,  1839. 

Your  letter  ought  not  to  grieve  me,  but  it  was  a  shock  for  which  I  was 
not  prepared,  as  I  had  not  dreamed  that  your  brother's  departure  was  so 
near.  The  thoughts  of  him  will  be  amongst  the  most  delightful  of  all  my 
thoughts  of  Rugby  pupils ;  so  amiable  and  so  promising  here,  and  so  early 
called  to  his  rest  and  glory.  I  do  feel  more  and  more  for  my  pupils,  and  for 
my  children  also,  that  I  can  readily  and  thankfully  see  them  called  away, 
when  they  are  to  all  human  appearance  assuredly  called  home.  This  is  a 
lesson  which  advancing  years  impress  very  strongly.  We  can  then  better 
tell  how  little  are  those  earthly  things  of  which  early  death  deprives  us,  and 
how  fearful  is  the  risk  of  this  world's  struggle.  May  God  bless  us  through 
His  Son,  and  make  us  to  come  at  last,  be  it  sooner  or  later,  out  of  this  strug- 
gle conquerors. 


CC.       TO    THE    UNDER    SECRETARY    OF    STATE. 

July  1,  1839. 

Nothing  can  be  more  proper  than  that  the  Head  Master 

or  Principal  of  the  proposed  School  should  be  subject  to  the  control  of  the 
Governor,  or  of  the  Bishop,  should  there  be  one  in  the  colony.  I  am  only 
anxious  to  understand  clearly  whether  he  is  to  be  in  any  degree  under  the 
control  of  any  local  Board,  whether  lay  or  clerical  ;  because,  if  he  were,  I 
could  not  conscientiously  recommend  him  to  take  an  office  which  I  am  sure 
he  would  shortly  find  himself  obliged  to  abandon.  Uniform  experience 
shows,  I  think,  so  clearly  the  mischief  of  subjecting  schools  to  the  ignorance 
and  party  feelings  of  persons  wholly  unacquainted  with  the  theory  and 
practice  of  education,  that  I  feel  it  absolutely  necessary  to  understand  fully 
the  intentions  of  the  Government  on  this  question. 


CCI.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  May  8,  1839. 

[After  speaking  of  a  decision  respecting  the  Foundationers  in  Rugby 
School.]  The  world  will  not  know  that  it  makes  no  earthly  difference  to 
me  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view,  whether  a  boy  is  in  the  lower  school  or 
the  upper ;  and  that  if  I  had  discouraged  the  lower  school,  and  especially 
the  Foundationers,  who  do  not  interfere  with  the  number  of  boarders,  I 
should  have  been  quarrelling  with  my  own  bread  and  butter.  Lord  Lang- 
dale  did  not  understand  the  difference  which  I  had  always  made  between 
Non-foundationers  and  Foundationers,  as  I  have  indeed  always  advised 
people  not  to  send  their  sons  as  boarders  under  twelve,  but  have  never  ap- 
plied the  same  advice  to  Foundationers  living  under  their  parents'  roof.  But 
it  is  so  old  a  charge  against  masters  of  Foundation  Schools,  that  they  dis- 
courage the  Foundationers,  in  order  to  have  boarders  who  pay  them  better, 
that  fdare  say  Lord  Langdale  and  half  the  world  will  believe  that  I  have 
been  acting  on  this  principle  ;  and  my  old  friends  of  the  Tory  newspapers 
are  quite  likely  to  gibe  at  me  as  liking  a  little  jobbing  in  my  own  particular 


LIFE  OP  DR.  ARNOLD.  339 

case,  as  well  as  other  pretended  Reformers.  Even  you,  perhaps,  do  not 
know  that  I  receive  precisely  as  much  money  for  every  Foundationer,  if  he 
be  only  a  little  boy  in  the  first  form,  as  I  do  for  any  Non-foundationer  at  the 
head  of  the  school ;  so  that  I  have  a  direct  interest — since  all  men  are  sup- 
posed to  act  from  interest — in  increasing  the  number  of  Foundationers,  and 
no  earthly  interest  or  object  in  diminishing  them.  I  think  you  will  not  won- 
der at  my  being  a  little  sensitive  on  the  present  occasion,  for  a  judge's  deci- 
sion is  a  very  different  thing  from  an  article  in  a  common  newspaper  ;  and 
as  I  believe  that  nothing  of  the  latter  sort  has  ever  disturbed  my  equanimity, 
so  I  should  not  wish  to  regard  the  former  lightly.  So  I  should  very  much 
like  to  hear  from  you  what  you  think  is  to  be  done, — if  any  thing.  After 
all,  I  could  laugh  heartily  at  the  notion  of  my  being  suspected  of  a  little 
snug  corruption,  after  having  preached  Reform  all  my  life. 


CCII.      TO    SIR    T.    S.    PASLEY,    BART. 

Rugby,  May  10,  1839. 

Your  absence  will  be  a  sad  blank  in  our  Westmoreland 

visits,  if  we  are  still  allowed  to  continue  them.  But  seven  years  is  a  long 
term  for  human  life,  and  so  long  have  we  been  permitted  to  go  down  sum- 
mer and  winter,  and  return  with  all  our  family  entire  and  in  good  health  ;  so 
that  I  cannot  but  fancy  that  something  or  other  may  happen  to  break  this 
happy  uniformity  of  our  lives. 

The  state  of  public  affairs  is  not  inviting,  and  I  rejoice 

that  we  take  in  no  daily  paper.  It  is  more  painful  than  enough  to  read  of 
evils  which  one  can  neither  cure  nor  palliate.  The  real  evil  which  lies  at 
the  bottom  of  the  Chartist  agitation,  is,  I  believe,  too  deep  for  any  human 
remedy,  unless  the  nation  were  possessed  with  a  spirit  of  wisdom  and  of 
goodness,  such  as  I  fear  will  never  be  granted  to  us  after  we  have  for  so 
many  centuries  neglected  the  means  which  we  have  had.  So  far  from  find- 
ing it  hard  to  believe  that  repentance  can  never  be  too  late,  my  only  wonder 
is  that  it  should  ever  be  otherwise  than  too  late,  so  instantaneous  and  so 
lasting  are  the  consequences  of  any  evil  once  committed.  I  find  itf  very 
hard  to  hinder  my  sense  of  this  from  quite  oppressing  me  and  making  me 
forget  the  many  blessings  of  my  own  domestic  condition.  But  perhaps  it 
comes  from  my  fondness  for  History,  that  political  things  have  as  great  a 
reality  to  my  mind,  as  things  of  private  life,  and  the  life  of  a  nation  becomes 
distinct  as  that  of  an  individual.  We  are  going  to  have  a  confirmation  here, 
by  the  Bishop  of  Worcester,  next  month  in  the  chapel,  as  I  wished  to  have 
one  every  two  years  at  least,  for  otherwise  many  of  the  boys  go  abroad 
and  are  never  confirmed  at  all.  And  I  think 'that  we  shall  have  a  third 
painted  window  up  in  the  chapel,  before  the  holidays. 


CCIII.      TO    ARCHDEACON    HARE. 

Fox  How,  June  21, 1839. 

I  am  sure  that  you  will  have  sympathized'  with  me  in 

the  delight  which  I  have  felt  in  reading  Niebuhr's  Letters;  t^tat  letter  in 
particular  to  a  Young  Student  in  Philology,  appears  to  me  invaluable.  I 
think  that  you  and  Thirlwall  have  much  to  answer  for  in  not  having  yet 
completed  your  translation  of  the  third  volume  of  the  History.  It  is  only 
when  that  volume  shall  have  become  generally  known,  that  English  readers 
will  learn  to  appreciate  Niebuhr's  excellence  as  a  narrator.  At  present  I 
am  continually  provoked  by  hearing  people  say,  that  he  indeed  prepared 
excellent  materials  for  an  historian,  but  that  he  did  not  himself  write  His- 
tory. 


340  LIFE   0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

I  am  obliged  to  superintend  a  new  edition  of  my  Thucydides,  which  in- 
terferes rather  with  the  progress  of  my  History.  And  the  first  volume  of 
Thucydides  is  so  full  of  errors,  both  of  omission  and  commission,  that  to  re- 
vise it  is  a  work  of  no  little  labour. 

You  would  rejoice  in  the  good  that  Lee  is  doing  at  Birmingham ;  I  do 
not  think  that  there  is,  in  all  England,  a  man  more  exactly  in  his  place  than 
he  is  now. 


CCIV.       TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.       (E.) 

Fox  How,  June  22,  1839. 

I  was  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  last  kind  letter,  and  I  would  have 
answered  it  immediately  had  it  not  arrived  just  at  our  most  busy  time,  at  the 
close  of  the  summer  half-year.  I  do  not  wonder  at  your  interest  about  the 
friend  whom  you  speak  of,  and  should  be  very  glad  to  be  of  any  assistance 
to  you  in  the  matter.  Priestley's  statements,  as  you  probably  know,  were 
answered  by  Horsley,  and  I  believe  sufficiently  answered;  but  neither  of  the 
controversialists  was  very  profound,  or,  as  I  should  fear,  very  fair ;  and  but 
little  real  benefit  can  be  derived  from  the  works  of  either.  Priestley's  argu- 
ments now  would  be  repeated  nowhere,  I  suppose,  but  in  England,  and  in 
England  only  amongst  a  sect  so  destitute  of  theological  and  critical  learning 
as  the  Unitarians.  It  goes  on  two  assumptions :  first,  that  the  Christian 
Church  of  Jerusalem  held  Unitarian  opinions  ;  and  secondly,  that  the  Church 
of  Jerusalem  was  the  standard  by  which  the  tenets  of  the  other  churches  were 
to  be  measured.  Now  the  second  of  these  assumptions  is  clearly  wrong, 
and  the  first  is  probably  so ;  but  we  have  very  small  evidence  as  to  the 
opinions  of  the  Church  of  Jerusalem,  and  so  a  dispute  may  be  maintained 
for  ever  on  that  point,  by  those  who  would  confine  their  attention  to  it,  and 
who  do  not  see  that  the  real  stress  of  the  question  lies  elsewhere.  But  the 
Epistles  of  Ignatius  are  a  decided  proof  that  neither  he  nor  the  Churches 
of  Asia  were  Unitarian  ;  and  his  language  is  the  more  to  be  valued,  because 
it  is  evidently  not  controversial,  nor  does  he  ever  dream  of  dwelling  on 
Christ's  Divinity  as  a  disputed  point,  but  as  a  thing  taken  by  all  Christians 
for  granted.  I  do  not  understand,  however,  how  an  Unitarian  can  consist- 
ently transfer  the  argument  from  the  Scripture  to  the  opinion  of  the  early 
Church.  As  he  rejects  the  authority  of  the  Church,  without  scruple,  where 
it  is  clearly  to  be  ascertained,  and  where  it  speaks  the  opinions  of  Christians 
of  all  parts  of  the  world,  through  more  than  seventeen  centuries,  it  is  idle 
to  refer  to  the  single  Church  of  Jerusalem  during  a  period  of  twenty  or 
thirty  years,  unless  he  can  show  that  that  Church  was  infallible,  and  its 
decisions  of  equal  weight  with  those  of  the  Scripture.  If  he  says  that  St. 
Paul  and  St.  John  corrupted  the  purity  of  the  true  Gospel,  which  was  kept 
only  by  St-  James  and  the  Church  of  Jerusalem, — that  no  doubt  would  be 
an  intelligible  argument ;  but  to  accept  St.  Paul  and  St.  John  as  inspired 
Apostles,  and  then  to  plead  the  opinions  of  theJChurch  of  Jerusalem  against 
them,  is  an  absurdity.  And  as  for  the  Unitarian  interpretations  of  St.  Paul 
and  St.  John,  they  are  really  such  monstrosrties  of  extravagance,  that  to 
any  one  used  to  the  critical  study  of  the  ancient  writers,  they  appear  too  had 
to  have  been  ever  maintained  in  earnest.  And  thus,  wherever  Unitarianism 
has  existed,  together  with  any  knowledge  of  criticism  or  philology,  as  in 
Germany,  it  has  at  once  assumed  that  the  Apostles  were  not  infallible,  and 
that  they  overrated  the  dignity  of  Christ's  Person.  So  impossible  is  it  to 
doubt  what  St.  John  meant  in  so  many  passages  of  his  Gospel,  and  what 
St.  Paul  meant  in  so  many  passages  ol  his  Epistles.  It  gives  me  the 
greatest  pleasure  to  find  that  you  still  enjoy  your  situation,  and  that  being 
the  case,  you  are  likely,  I  think,  to  find  it  more  and  more  agreeable,  the 
longer  you  hold  it. 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARXOLD. 


341 


CCV.      TO    REV.    G.    CORNISH. 

Fox  How,  July  6,  1839. 

As  I  believe  that  the  English  universities  are  the  best 

places  in  the  world  for  those  who  can  profit  by  them,  so  I  think  for  the  idle 
and  self-indulgent  they  are  about  the  very  worst,  and  I  would  far  rather 
send  a  boy  to  Van  Diemen's  Land,  where  he  must  work  for  his  bread,  than 
send  him  to  Oxford  to  live  in  luxury,  without  any  desire  in  his  mind  to  avail 
himself  of  his  advantages.  Childishness  in  boys,  even  of  good  abilities, 
seems  to  me  to  be  a  growing  fault,  and  I  do  not  know  to  what  to  ascribe'  it, 
except  to  the  great  number  of  exciting  books  of  amusement,  like  Pickwick 
and  Nickleby,  Bentley's  Magazine,  &c.  &c.  These  completely  satisfy  all 
the  intellectual  appetite  of  a  boy,  which  is  rarely  very  voracious,  and  leave 
him  totally  palled,  not  only  for  his  regular  work,  which  I  could  well  excuse 
in  comparison,  but  for  good  literature  of  all  sorts,  even  for  History  and  for 
Poetry. 

I  went  up  to  Oxford  to  the  Commemoration,  for  the  first  time  for  twenty- 
one  years,  to  see  Wordsworth  and  Bunsen  receive  their  degrees  ;  and  to 
me,  remembering  how  old  Coleridge  inoculated  a  little  knot  of  us  with  the 
love  of  Wordsworth,  when  his  name  was  in  general  a  by-word,  it  was  strik- 
ing to  witness  the  thunders  of  applause,  repeated  over  and  over  again,  with 
which  he  was  greeted  in  the  theatre  by  Under-graduates  and  Masters  of 
Arts  alike. 


CCVI.   TO  CHEVALIER  BUNSEN. 

Eugby,  August  2^,  1839. 

I  intend  this  letter  to  reach  you  on  the  25th  of  August,  a  day  which  has 
a  double  claim  on  my  remembrance  ;  for  it  is  my  little  Susy's  birthday  also, 
and  I  wish  it  to  convey  to  you,  though  most  inadequately,  my  congratula- 
tion to  Mrs.  Bunsen  and  all  your  family  on  the  return  of  that  day,  and  my 
earnest  wishes  for  all  happiness  for  you  and  lor  them ;  and,  so  far  as  we 
may  wish  in  such  matters,  my  earnest  desire  that  you  may  be  long  spared 
to  your  friends,  your  family,  your  country,  and  above  all  to  Christ's  Holy 
Catholic  Church,  in  whose  cause  I  know  you  are  ever  labouring,  and  which 
at  this  hour  needs  the  utmost  service  of  all  her  true  members,  amidst  such 
various  dangers  as  now  threaten  her  from  within  and  from  without.  I  am 
glad  to  think  that  this  one  birthday  more  you  will  pass  in  England. 

We  shall  see  you  and  all  your  family,  I  confidently  trust,  ere  very  long. 
Meanwhile  you  will  be  glad  to  hear  that and  I  enjoyed  our  journey 

freatly,  and,  although  we  saw  but  little  of _  Italy,  yet  that  the  South  of 
'ranee  even  surpassed  our  expectations,  and  the  physical  benefit  to  my 
health  and  strength  was  as  complete  as  I  could  desire.  Aries  interested  me 
exceedingly  ;  it  was  striking  to  see  the  Amphitheatre  and  Theatre  so  close 
to  each  other,  and  the  two  marble  pillars  still  standing  in  the  proscenium 
of  the  theatre,  reminded  me  of  the  Forum  at  Rome.  I  was  also  much 
struck  with  the  deserted  Port  of  Frejus,  and  the  mole  and  entrance  tower  of 
the  old  harbour,  rising  now  out  of  a  plain  of  grass.  The  famous  plain  of 
stones  or  plain  of  Crau,  was  very  interesting,  for  it  lies  now  in  precisely  the 
same  state  as  it  was  2300  years  ago,  or  more,  when  it  was  made  the  scene 
of  one  of  the  adventures  of  Hercules  ;  and  the  remarkably  Spanish  character 
of  the  town,  population,  and  neighbourhood  of  Salon,  between  Aries  and 
Aix,  was  something  quite  new  to  me.  In  Italy  we  only  went  from  Nice  to 
Turin,  by  the  Col  di  Tenda,  and  certainly  in  my  recollections  of  this  year's 
tour,  all  images  of  beauty  and  interest  are  connected  with  France,  rather 
than  with  Italy.     The  intense  drought  had  spoiled  every  thing,  and  the  main 

1  See  Sermons,  vol.  iv.  pp.  39-41. 


342  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

Alps  themselves,  as  seen  in  a  perfectly  clear  morning  from  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Turin,  exhibited  scarcely  more  than  patches  of  snow  on  their  sum- 
mits ;  the  eifect  of  a  long  range  of  snowy  summits  was  completely  gone. 
Still  I  had  a  great  delight  in  setting  foot  once  more,  if  it  was  but  in  a  mere 
corner  of  Italy  ;  sights  which  I  had  half  forgotten  have  taken  again  a  fresh 
place  in  my  memory;  the  style  of  the  buildings — the  "  congesta  manu  prge- 
ruptis  oppida  saxis  " — the  cultivation  of  the  valleys — the  splendour  of  the 
churches — nay,  the  very  roguery  and  lying  of  the  people,  and  their  marvel- 
lous ignorance — rose  up  before  me  again  as  something  which  I  did  not  wish 
to  lose  altogether  out  of  my  memory. 

I  paid  a  long  visit  to  Letronne  at  Paris,  and  Peyrou  at  Turin.  Both 
were  very  civil  and  agreeable,  and  gave  me  several  of  their  works.  Peyrou 
had  received  many  letters  from  Niebuhr,  which  he  showed  to  me  with  seeming 
pleasure — but  he  had  never  seen  him.  It  was  sad  to  me  to  find  that  he  too 
had  a  lively  sense  of  the  grievous  ignorance  of  English  writers  on  points  of 
philology.  He  mentioned  to  me  with  dismay,  and  read  to  me  extracts  from 
a  Coptic  dictionary  lately  published,  proh  pudor !  at  Oxford,  which  I  had 
never  seen,  or  even  heard  of  the  writer's  name,  nor  do  I  remember  it  now — 
but  it  was  worthy  to  rank  with  Sir  W.  Bethani's  extravagances  about  the 
Keltic  languages.  I  tried  hard  at  Provence  to  find  a  Provencal  Grammar, 
but  I  could  not  succeed,  and  they  told  me  there  was  no  such  thing ;  they 
only  showed  me  a  grammar  for  teaching  French  to  Provencals,  whch  they 
wanted  to  persuade  me  was  all  the  same  thing.  It  seems  that  the  Provenqal 
language  is  less  fortunate  than  the  Welsh,  in  having  wealthy  and  educated 
persons  desirous  of  encouraging  it.  I  could  not  find  that  it  was  at  all  used 
now  as  a  written  language,  although  it  seemed  to  me  to  be  as  distinct  from 
French  as  Italian  is. 

[After  questions  relating  to  Sillig's  Edition  of  Pliny.]     I 

have  read  your  speech  at  Oxford,  and  admire  your  indefatigable  exertions  to 
see  and  hear  every  thing  in  England.  But  I  feel  the  state  of  public  affairs 
so  deeply  that  I  cannot  bear  either  to  read,  or  hear,  or  speak,  or  write  about 
them.  Only  I  would  commend  them  to  God's  care  and  deliverance,  if  the 
judgment  is  not  now  as  surely  fixed  as  that  of  Babylon. 


CCVII.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Kugby,  September  25,  1839. 

I  do  not  know  where  this  letter  may  find  you,  but  I  hope  that  it  may  be 
at  Ottery ;  and  that  you  may  be  enjoying  to  the  full  your  rest  from  work, 
and  the  society  of  your  family,  and  the  actual  beauty  and  the  old  recollec- 
tions of  your  home.  We  have  been  at  work  now  nearly  seven  weeks, 
so  that  the  holidays  live  but  in  remote  memory,  and  I  am  very  far  from 
wishing  them  to  come  again  very  speedily  ;  for  they  imply  that  a  half  year 
is  gone,  and  there  is  so  much  that  I  would  fain  do,  that  I  cannot  wish  time 
to  pass  away  very  quickly.  The  South  of  France  put  me  into  the  best  bodily 
condition  in  which  I  can  almost  ever  remember  to  have  been ;  and  happily 
the  effect  of  such  a  medicine  does  not  immediately  evaporate;  it  really  seems 

to  wind  up  the  machine  for  three  or  four  months The  Roman 

remains  at  Aries,  the  papal  remains  at  Avignon,  and  the  Spanish-like  char- 
acter of  the  country  between  Aries  and  Aix  were  exceedingly  interesting.  I 
thought  of  old  days  when  I  used  to  read  Southey's  raptures  about  Spain 
and  Spaniards  as  I  looked  out  on  the  street  at  Salon,  where  a  fountain  was 
playing  under  a  grove  of  plane  trees,  and  the  population  were  all  in  felt 
hats,  grave  and  quiet,  and  tlieir  Provencal  language  sounding  much  more 
like  Spanish  than  French.  Then  we  had  the  open  heaths  covered  with  the 
dwarf  ilex  and  Roman  pine,  and  the  rocks  actually  breathing  fragrance 
from  the  number  of  their  aromatic  plants. 


LIFE   OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


343 


We  arrived  at  Rugby  from  London  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day  on  which 
the  school  opened ;  and  when  we  reached  the  station,  we  found  there  my 
wife  and  all  her  party  from  Fox  How,  who  had  arrived  barely  five  minutes 
before  us,  so  that  we  actually  all  entered  our  own  house  together.  We 
had  a  very  large  admission  of  new  boys,  larger  than  I  ever  remember  since 
I  have  been  at  Rugby,  so  that  the  school  is  now,  I  believe,  quite  full.  And 
since  that  time  we  have  gone  on  working  much  as  usual ;  only  Thucydides 
is  still  upon  hand,  and  interferes  with  the  History,  and  will  do  so,  I  fear,  for 
another  month. 

I  have  just  got  the  fourth  volume  of  your  Uncle's  Literary  Remains,  which 
makes  me  regard  him  with  greater  admiration  than  ever.  He  seems  to  hold 
that  point  which  I  have  never  yet  been  able  to  find  in  any  of  our  English 
Divines,  and  the  want  of  which  so  mars  my  pleasure  in  reading  them.  His 
mind  is  at  once  rich  and  vigorous,  and  comprehensive  and  critical ;  while 
the  rjd-oq  is  so  pure  and  so  lively  all  the  while.  He  seems  to  me  to  love 
Truth  really,  and  therefore  Truth  presented  herself  to  him  not  negatively, 
as  she  does  to  many  minds,  who  can  see  that  the  objections  against  her  are 
unfounded,  and  therefore  that  she  is  to  be  received ;  but  she  filled  him,  as  it 
were,  heart  and  mind,  embuing  him  with  her  very  self,  so  that  all  his  being 
comprehended  her  fully  and  loved  her  ardently ;  and  that  seems  to  me  to  be 
true  wisdom 

It  was  just  at  the  foot  of  the  Col  di  Tenda  that  I  got  hold  of  an  English 
newspaper  containing  a  charge  of  yours,  in  which  the  Chartists  were 
noticed.  I  was  glad  to  find  that  your  mind  had  been  working  in  that  di- 
rection ;  and  that  you  spoke  strongly  as  to  the  vast  importance  of  the  sub- 
ject. I  would  give  anything  to  be  able  to  organize  a  Society  "for  drawing 
public  attention  to  the  state  of  the  labouring  classes  throughout  the  kingdom." 
Men  do  not  think  of  the  fearful  state  in  which  we  are  living ;  if  they  could 
once  be  brought  to  notice  and  to  appreciate  the  evil,  I  should  not  even  yet 
despair  that  the  remedy  may  be  found  and  applied  ;  even  though  it  is  the  so- 
lution of  the  most  difficult  problem  ever  yet  proposed  to  man's  wisdom,  and 
the  greatest  triumph  over  selfishness  ever  yet  required  of  his  virtue. .  A 
society  might  give  the  alarm,  and  present  the  facts  to  the  notice  of  the 
public.  It  was  thus  that  Clarkson  overthrew  the  slave  trade;  and  it  is  thus, 
I  hope,  that  the  system  of  Transportation  has  received  its  death  blow.  I 
have  desired  Fellows  to  send  you  one  of  the  copies  of  a  Lecture  which  1 
once  showed  you,  about  the  Divisions  of  Knowledge,  and  which  I  have  just 
printed,  in  the  hope  of  getting  it  circulated  among  the  various  Mechanics' 
Institutes,  where  something  of  the  kind  is,  I  think,  much  wanted.  Let  me 
hear  from  you  when  you  can. 


CCVIII.      TO    SIR   T.    S.    PASLEY. 

Rugby,  September  9, 1839. 

Our  tour  was  most  delightful,  and  put  me  into  such  a  per- 
fect state  of  health  as  I  never  can  gain  from  any  thing  but  travelling  abroad, 
where  one  can  neither  read  nor  write,  nor  receive  letters  ;  and  therefore 
the  mind  is  perfectly  at  rest,  while  the  body  is  constantly  enjoying  air  and 
exercise,  light  food,  and  early  hours. 

I  never  before  saw  so  much  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  the  weather  was 
so  perfect  that  it  never  could  have  been  more  enjoyable.  I  thought  of  you 
particularly  when  we  were  out  in  a  boat  in  the  midst  of  Toulon  Harbour, 
and  rowing  under  the  stern  of  the  Montebello,  which  seemed  to  me  a  very 
fine  looking  three-decker.  We  went  over  the  Arsenal,  which  I  thought  very 
inferior  to  Portsmouth,  but  the  magnificence  of  the  harbour  exceeds  any 
thing  that  I  had  ever  seen  ; — how  it  would  stand  in  your  more  experienced, 
as  well  as  better  judging  eyes,  I  know  not Provence  far  sur- 


344  LIFE  0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

passed  my  expectations ;  the  Roman  remains  at  Aries  are  magnificent ;  and 
the  prisons  in  the  Pope's  Palace,  at  Avignon,  were  one  of  the  most  striking 
things  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  In  the  self-same  dungeon  the  roof  was  still 
black  with  the  smoke  of  the  Inquisition  fires,  in  which  men  were  tortured  or 
burnt ;  and,  as  you  looked  down  a  trap-door  into  an  apartment  below,  the 
walls  were  still  marked  with  the  blood  of  the  victims  whom  Jourdan  Coupe 
Tete  threw  down  there  into  the  Ice-house  below  in  the  famous  massacre  of 
1791.  It  was  very  awful  to  see  such  traces  of  the  two  great  opposite  forms 
of  all  human  wickedness,  which  I  know  not  how  to  describe  better  than  by 
calling  them  Priestcraft  and  Benthamism,  or,  if  you  like,  White  and  Red 
Jacobinism. 

I  am  still  in  want  of  a  master,  and  I  shall  want  another  at  Christmas, 

but  I  cannot  hear  of  a  man  to  suit  me We  are  also  in  almost 

equal  distress  for  a  pony  for  my  wife ;  and  there,  too,  we  want  a  rare  union 
of  qualities  ;  that  he  should  be  very  small,  very  quiet,  very  surefooted,  and 
able  to  walk  more  than  four  miles  an  hour.  If  you  hear  of  any  such  mar- 
vel of  a  pony  in  your  neighbourhood,  I  would  thankfully  be  at  the  expense 
of  its  transit  from  the  Isle  of  Man  to  Rugby  ;  for  to  be  without  a  pony  for 
my  wife  interferes  with  our  daily  comlbrt  more  than  almost  any  other 
external  inconvenience  could  do. 

I  was  over  at  Birmingham  twice  during  the  meeting  of  the  British  Asso- 
ciation, and  James  Marshall  was  there  the  whole  week.  Murchison  con- 
vinced Greenough  and  De  la  Beche,  on  the  spot,  that  they  must  recolour  all 
their  geological  maps ;  for  what  were  called  the  Grey  Wackes  of  North 
Devon,  he  maintains  to  be  equivalent  to  the  coal  formation ;  and  the  lime- 
stones on  which  they  rest  are  equivalent  to  the  old  Red  Sandstone,  which 
now  is  to  be  sandstone  no  more, — seeing  that  it  is  often  limestone, — but  is  to 
be  called  the  Devonian  System.  Lord  Northampton,  as  Chairman,  wound 
up  the  business  on  the  last  day  in  the  Town  Hall  by  a  few  Christian  sen- 
tences, simply  and  feelingly  put,  to  my  very  great  satisfaction. 


CCIX.      *  TO    J.    L.    HOSKYNS,    ESQ. 
(In  answer  to  a  question  on  the  Preface  to  the  third  volume  of  Sermons.) 

Rugby,  September  22, 1839. 

It  is  always  a  real  pleasure,  to  me  to  keep  up  my  intercourse  with  my 
old  pupils,  and  to  be  made  acquainted  not  only  with  what  is  happening  to 
them  outwardly,  but  much  more  with  what  is  going  on  in  their  own  minds ; 
and  in  your  case  I  owe  you  especially  any  assistance  which  it  may  be  in  my 
power  to  render,  as  I  appear  to  have  unconsciously  contributed  to  your 
present  difficulty.  If  you  were  going  into  the  Law,  or  to  study  Medicine, 
there  would  be  a  clear  distinction  between  your  professional  reading  and 
your  generel  reading  ;  between  that  reading  which  was  designed  to  make 
you  a  good  lawyer  or  physician,  and  that  which  was  to  make  you  a  good 
and  wise  man  But  it  is  the  peculiar  excellence  of  the  Christian  ministry, 
that  there  a  man's  professional  reading  and" general  reading  coincide,  and 
the  very  studies  which  would  most  tend  to  make  him  a  good  and  wise  man, 
do  therefore  of  necessity  tend  to  make  him  a  good  clergyman.  Our  merely 
professional  reading  appears  to  me  to  consist  in  little  more  than  an  acquaint- 
ance with  such  laws,  or  Church  regulations,  as  concern  the  discharge  of 
our  ministerial  duties,  in  matters  external  and  formal.  But  the  great  mass 
of  our  professional  reading  is  not  merely  professional  but  general ;  that  is  to 
say,  if  I  had  time  at  my  command,  and  wished  to  follow  the  studies  winch 
would  be  most  useful  to  me  as  a  Christian,  without  reference  to  any  one 
particular  trade  or  calling.  1  should  select,  as  nearly  as  might  be,  that  very 
same  course  of  study  which  to  my  mind  would  also  be  the  best  preparation 
for  the  work  of  the  Christian  ministry. 


LIFE   OP  DR.  ARNOLD. 


345 


That  the  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  is  the  most  essential  point  in  our 
studies  as  men  and  Christians,  is  as  clear  to  my  mind  as  that  it  is  also  the 
most  essential  point  in  our  studies  as  clergymen.  The  only  question  is,  in 
what  manner  is  this  knowledge  to  be  best  obtained.  Now, — omitting  to 
speak  of*  the  moral  and  spiritual  means  of  obtaining  it,  such  as  prayer  and  a 
watchful  life,  about  the  paramount  necessity  of  which  there  is  no  doubt  what- 
ever,— our  present  question  only  regards  the  intellectual  means  of  obtaining 
it,  that  is,  the  knowledge  and  the  cultivation  of  our  mental  faculties,  which 
may  best  serve  to  the  end  desired. 

Knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  seems  to  consist  in  two  things,  so  essen- 
tially united,  however,  that  I  scarcely  like  to  separate  them  even  in 
thought;  the  one  I  will  call  the  knowledge  of  the  contents  of  the  Scriptures 
in  themselves ;  the  other  the  knowledge  of  their  application  to  us,  and  our 
own  times  and  circumstances.  Really  and  truly  I  believe  that  the  one  of 
these  cannot  exist  in  any  perfection  without  the  other.  Of  course  we  cannot 
apply  the  Scriptures  properly  without  knowing  them  ;  and  to  know  them 
merely  as  an  ancient  book,  without  understanding  how  to  apply  them,  ap- 
pears to  me  to  be  ignorance  rather  than  knowledge.  But  still  in  thought  we 
can  separate  the  two,  and  each  also  requires  in  some  measure  a  different 
line  of  study. 

The  intellectual  means  of  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  in 
themselves  are,  I  suppose,  Philology,  Antiquities,  and  Ancient  History ;  but 
the  means  of  acquiring  the  knowledge  of  their  right  application  are  far  more 
complex  in  their  character,  and  it  is  precisely  here,  as  I  think,  that  the  com- 
mon course  of  theological  study  is  so  exceedingly  narrow,  and  therefore  the 
mistakes  committed  in  the  application  of  the  Scriptures  are,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  so  frequent  and  so  mischievous.  As  one  great  example  of  what  I  mean, 
I  will  instance  the  questions,  which  are  now  so  much  agitated,  of  Church 
authority  and  Church  government.  It  is  just  as  impossible  for  a  man  to  un- 
derstand these  questions  without  a  knowledge  of  the  great  questions  of  law 
and  government  generally,  as  it  is  to  understand  any  matter  that  is  avow- 
edly political ;  and  therefore  the  Politics  of  Aristotle  and  similar  works  are 
to  me  of  a  very  great  and  direct  use  every  day  of  my  life,  wherever  these 
questions  are  brought  before  me  ;  and  you  know  how  often  these  questions 
are  mooted,  and  with  what  vehemence  men  engage  in  them.  Historical 
reading  it  appears  that  you  are  actually  engaged  in,  but  so  much  of  History 
is  written  so  ill.  that  it  appears  to  me  to  be  desirable  to  be  well  acquainted 
with  the  greatest  historians,  in  order  to  learn  what  the  defects  of  common 
History  are,  and  how  we  should  be  able  to  supply  them.  It  is  a  rare  quality 
in  any  man  to  be  able  really  to  represent  to  himself  the  picture  of  another 
age  and  country ;  and  much  of  History  is  se  vague  and  poor  that  no  lively 
images  can  be  gathered  from  it.  There  is,  actually,  so  far  as  I  know, 
no  great  ecclesiastical  historian  in  any  language.  But  the  flatnesses 
and  meagreness  and  unfairness  of  most  of  those  Who  have  written  on  this 
subject  may  not  strike  us,  if  we  do  not  know  what  good  history  should  be. 
And  any  one  very  great  historian,  such  as  Thucydides,  or  Tacitus,  or 
Niebuhr,  throws  a  light  backward  and  forward  upon  all  history ;  for  any  one 
age  or  country  well  brought  before  our  minds  teaches  us  what  historical 
knowledge  really  is,  and  saves  us  from  thinking  that  we  have  it  when  we 
have  it  not.  I  will  not  cross  my  writing,  so  I  must  continue  my  say  in 
another  sheet. 


The  accidental  division  of  my  paper  suits  well  with  the  real  division  of 
my  subject.  I  have  stated  what  appears  to  me  to  be  the  best  means  of  ac- 
quiring a  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures,  both  in  themselves,  and  in  their 
application  to  ourselves.  And  it  is  this  second  part  which  calls  for  such  a 
variety  of  miscellaneous  knowledge ;  inasmuch  as,  in  order  to  apply  a  rule 
properly,  we  must  understand  the  nature  and  circumstances  of  the  case 

23 


346 


LIFE  OF   DR.   ARNOLD. 


to  which  it  is  to  he  applied,  and  how  they  differ  from  those  of  the  case  to 
which  it  was  applied  originally.  Thus  there  are  two  states  of  the  human 
race  which  we  want  to  understand  thoroughly ;  the  state  when  the  New 
Testament  was  written,  and  our  own  state.  And  our  own  state  is  so  con- 
nected with,  and  dependent  on  the  past,  that  in  order  to  understand  it  thor- 
oughly we  must  go  backwards  into  past  ages,  and  thus,  in  fact,  we  are 
obho-ed  to  co  back  till  we  connect  our  own  time  with  the  first  century,  and 
in  many  points  with  centuries  yet  more  remote.  You  will  say  then,  in 
another  sense  from  what  St.  Paul  said  it,  "  Who  is  sufficient  for  these  things  ?" 
and  I  answer,  "No  man;"  but,  notwithstanding,  it  is  well  to  have  a  good 
model  before  us,  although  our  imitation  of  it  will  fall  far  short  of  it.  But 
you  say,  how  does  all  this  edify  1  And  this  is  a  matter  which  I  think  it  is 
very  desirable  to  understand  clearly. 

If  death  were  immediately  before  us, — say  that  the  Cholera  was  in  a 
man's  parish,  and  numbers  were  dying  daily,— it  is  manifest  that  our  du- 
ties — our  preparation  for  another  life  by  conforming  ourselves  to  God's  will 
respecting  us  in  this  life, — would  become  exceedingly  simple.  To  preach  the 
Gospel,  that  is,  to  lead  men's  faith  to  Christ  as  their  Saviour  by  His  death 
and  resurrection ;  to  be  earnest  in  practical  kindness ;  to  clear  one's  heart 
of  all  enmities  and  evil  passions  ;  this  would  be  a  man's  work,  and  this  only; 
his  readino-  would,  I  suppose,  be  limited  then  to  such  parts  of  the  Scriptures 
as  were  directly  strengthening  to  his  faith,  and  hope  and  charity,  to  works  of 
prayers  and  hymns,  and  to  such  practical  instructions  as  might  be  within  his 
reach  as  to  the  treatment  of  the  prevailing  disease. 

Now  can  we  say,  that  in  ordinary  life  our  duties  can  be  made  thus  sim- 
ple 1  Are  there  not,  then,  matters  of  this  life  which  must  be  attended  to  1 
Are  there  not  many  questions  would  press  upon  us  in  which  we  must  act 
and  advise,  besides  the  simple  direct  preparation  for  death  ?  And  it  being 
God's  will  that  we  should  have  to  act  and  advise  in  these  things,  and  our 
service  to  Him  and  to  His  Church  necessarily  requiring  them  ;  is  it  right  to 
say,  that  the  knowledge  which  shall  teach  us  how  to  act  and  advise  rightly 
with  respect  to  them  is  not  edifying  ? 

But  may  not  a  man  say,  "  I  wish  to  be  in  the  Ministry,  but  I  do  not  feel 
an  inclination  for  a  long  course  of  reading ;  my  tastes,  and  I  think  my  duties, 
lead  me  another  way  V  This  may  be  said,  I  think,  very  justly.  A  man 
may  do  immense  good  with  nothing  more  than  an  unlearned  familiarity  with 
the  Scriptures,  with  sound  practical  sense  and  activity,  taking  part  in  all  the 
business  of  his  parish,  and  devoting  himself  to  intercourse  with  men  rather 
than  with  books.  I  honour  such  men  in  the  highest  degree,  and  think  that 
they  are  among  the  most  valuable  ministers  that  the  Church  possesses.  A 
man's  reading,  in  this  case,  is  of  a  miscellaneous  character,  consisting,  be- 
eides  the  Bible  and  such  books  as  are  properly  devotional,  of  such  books  as 
chance  throws  in  his  way,  or  the  particular  concerns  of  his  parish  may  lead 
him  to  take  an  interest  in.  And,  though  he  may  not  be  a  learned  man,  he 
may  be  that  which  is  far  better  than  mere  learning, — a  wise  man,  and  a 
good  man. 

All  that  I  would  entreat  of  every  man  with  .whom  I  had  any  influence  is, 
that  if  he  read  at  all — in  the  sense  of  studying — he  should  read  widely  and 
comprehensively ;  that  he  should  not  read  exclusively  or  principally  what  is 
called  Divinity.  Learning,  as  it  is  called,  of  this  sort, — when  not  properly 
mixed  with  that  comprehensive  study  which  alone  deserves  the  name, — is,  I 
am  satisfied,  an  actual  mischief  to  a  man's  mind  ;  it  impairs  his  simple  com- 
mon sense,  and  gives  him  no  wisdom.  It  makes  him  narrow-minded,  and 
fills  him  with  absurdities ;  and,  while  he  is  in  reality  grievously  ignorant,  it 
makes  him  consider  himself  a  great  divine.  Let  a  man  read  nothing,  if  he 
will,  except  his  Bible  and  Prayer  Book  and  the  chance  reading  of  the  day ; 
but  let  him  not,  if  he  values  the  power  of  seeing  truth  and  judging  soundly, 
let  him  not  read  exclusively  or  predominantly  the  works  of  those  who  are 
called  divines,  whether  they  be  those  of  the  first  four  centuries,  or  those  of 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


347 


the  sixteenth,  or  those  of  the  eighteenth  or  seventeenth.  With  regard  to 
the  Fathers,  as  they  are  called,  I  would  advise  those  who  have  time  to  read 
them  deeply,  those  who  have  less  time  to  read  at  least  parts  of  them  ;  but  in 
all  cases  preserve  the  proportions  of  your  reading.  Read  along  with  the 
Fathers,  the  writings  of  men  of  other  times  and  of  different  powers  of  mind. 
Keep  your  view  of  men  and  things  extensive,  and  depend  upon  it  that  a 
mixed  knowledge  is  not  a  superficial  one  ; — as  far  as  it  goes,  the  views  that 
it  gives  are  true, — but  he  who  reads  deeply  in  one  class  of  writers  only,  gets 
views  which  are  almost  sure  to  be  perverted,  and  which  are  not  only  narrow 
but  false.  Adjust  your  proposed  amount  of  reading  to  your  time  and  incli- 
nation— this  is  perfectly  free  to  every  man,  but  whether  that  amount  be  large 
or  small,  let  it  be  varied  in  its  kind  and  widely  varied.  If  I  have  a  confi- 
dent opinion  on  anyone  point  connected  with  the  improvement  of  the  human 
mind,  it  is  on  this.  I  have  now  given  you  the  principles,  which  I  believe  to 
be  true  with  respect  to  a  clergyman's  reading. 

If  you  can  come  to  Rugby  in  your  way  to  Oxford,  I  will  add  any  thing  in 
my  power  to  the  details;  at  any  rate  I  shall  be  delighted  to  see  you  here, 
and  I  shall  have  great  pleasure  in  giving  you  an  introduction  to  Hamilton, 
who,  I  am  sure,  would  value  your  acquaintance  much. 


CCX.      *  TO    T.    BURBIDGE,    ESQ. 
(Travelling  in  Switzerland.) 

Rugby,  October  2,  1639. 

Vaughan  has  just  got  his  fellowship  at  Trinity,  and  Howson, 

I  am  sorry  to  say,  has  not.  Freeman  has  been  staying  with  us  for  some  days, 
and  we  all  like  him  more  and  more.  And  in  the  course  of  the  next  fortnight, 
I  suppose  that  we  shall  see  several  of  our  friends  from  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge, just  before  the  time  of  their  gathering.  Our  weather  has  been. sadly 
capricious :  for  the  last  ten  days  it  has  been  much  better,  and  I  bathed  in 
the  Waterfall  yesterday;  but  to-day  it  is  again  broken,  and  is  cold  and 
rainy.  I  watch  with  a  most  intense  interest  the  result  of  the  harvest,  believ- 
ing that  the  consequences  of  a  bad  crop  maybe  most  serious;  and  having 
also  a  belief  that  there  are  many  symptoms  about  of  one  of  those  great  pe- 
riods of  judgment  which  are  called  the  Comings  of  our  Lord  :  periods  which  I 
could  bear  with  far  greater  equanimity  if  the  distracted  state  of  the  Church, 
or  rather  the  non-existence  of  the  Church  for  very  many  of  its  highest 
objects,  did  not  make  it  so  hard  to  find  sympathy.  Those  men  at  Oxford 
look  upon  me  as  a  heretic, — and  though  1  hope  and  believe  that  I  could  feel 
almost  entire  sympathy  with  them,  if  we  were  together  in  mere  suffering,  or 
death,  yet  in  life  and  in  action  I  necessarily  shrink  from  them  when  1  see 
them  labouring  so  incessantly,  though  I  doubt  not  so  ignorantly,  to  enthrone 
the  very  Mystery  of  falsehood  and  iniquity  in  that  neglected  and  dishonoured 
Temple,  the  Church  of  God.  And  then  those  who  are  called  Liberals  !  And 
the  Zurich  Government  putting  Strauss  forward  as  an  instructor  of  Chris- 
tians !  It  is  altogether  so  sad,  that  if  I  were  to  allow  myself  to  dwell  much 
upon  it,  I  think  it  would  utterly  paralyze  me.  I  could  sit  still  and  pine 
and  die. 

You  have  heard  that  the  school  is  flourishing  outwardly ;  as  to  its  inward 
state,  I  fear  that  Walrond's  account  is  too  favourable,  although  there  is  I 
think  no  particular  ground  of  complaint,  and  there  is  much  to  like  and  think 
well  of. The  Latin  verse  altogether  in  the  Form  is  much  bet- 
ter than  it  was  ;  the  Latin  prose  I  think  not  so.  I  have  nearly  finished 
Thucydides,  and  then  I  hope  to  turn  again  to  Rome.  The  second  edition 
of  the  first  volume  is  now  printing.  Pray  call  on  Amadee  Peyrou  at  Turin, 
with  my  respects  to  him  ;  he  will  be  very  civil  to  you,  and  you  will,  I  think, 


348  LIFE   0F    DR    ARNOLD. 

like  him.  He 
which  it  would 
get  it  for  me  ? 


like  him.     He  will  tell   you  if  any  thing  has  come  out  since  I  was  at  Turin, 
which  it  would  concern  me  to  get ;  and  if  there  is,  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to 


CCXI.   TO  CHEVALIER  BUNSEN. 

Rugby,  October  4,  1833. 

When  I  think  of  you  as  really  going  to  leave  England,  it 

makes  me  think  how  much  there  still  is  on  which  I  want  to  talk  to  you  more 
fully.  Particularly,  I  must  get  you  some  day  to  answer  for  me  in  writing 
certain  questions  as  to  the  Lord's  Supper.  I  think  that  you  and  Samuel 
Coleridge  both  agree  with  one  another  and  differ  from  me,  and  this  of  course 
makes  me  suspect  the  justness  of  my  own  views,  while  it  makes  me  sure 
that  what  you  and  Coleridge  hold  can  be  nothing  superstitious  or  unchristian. 
I  see  clearly  the  wide  difference  between  what  you  hold  and  the  opinions 
which  I  so  dread  and  condemn.  But,  plainly,  I  cannot  arrive  at  even  your 
notion  of  the  Communion,  or  what  I  believe  to  be  your  notion,  from  the 
Scriptures,  without  interpreting  them  by  what  is  called  the  Concensus  Ec- 
clesiee.  Now  this  so  called  Consensus  Ecclesise  is  in  such  a  matter  to  me 
worth  nothing,  because  such  a  view  of  the  Communion  was  precisely  in 
unison  with  the  tendencies  of  the  prevailing  party  in  the  Church  whose 
writings  are  now  called  Consensus  Ecclesise.  And  if  I  follow  this  pretended 
Consensus  in  forming  my  views  of  the  Sacraments,  I  appear  to  myself  to 
be  undoing  St.  Paul's  and  our  Lord's  work  in  one  great  point,  and  to  be 
introducing  that  very  Judaism,  to  which  Christianity  is  so  directly  opposed, 
and  which  consists  in  ascribing  spiritual  effects  to  outward  and  bodily 
actions.  It  seems  to  me  historically  certain  that  the  Judaism  which  upheld 
Circumcision  and  insisted  on  the  differences  of  meats,  after  having  vainly 
endeavoured  to  sap  the  Gospel  under  its  proper  Judaic  form,  did,  even  with- 
in the  first  century,  transfuse  its  spirit  into  a  Christian  form;  and  substi- 
tuting Baptism  for  Circumcision,  and  the  mystic  influence  of  the  Bread  and 
Wine  of  the  Communion  for  the  doctrine  of  purifying  and  defiling  meats,  did 
thereby,  as  has  happened  many  a  time  since,  pervert  Christianity  to  a  fatal 
extent,  and  seduced  those  who  would  have  resisted  it  to  the  death  under  its 
own  form,  because  now,  though  its  spirit  was  the  same,  its  form  was 
Christian.  Now  I  am  sure  that  you  are  not  Judaic  either  in  form  or  spirit, 
and  therefore  there  may  he  a  real  Christian  element  in  the  doctrine  which  I 
do  not  perceive,  or  am  not  able  to  appreciate.  And  if  so,  it  would  be  my 
earnest  wish  to  be  permitted  to  see  it  and  to  embrace  it ;  and  it  would 
also  be  no  light  pleasure  to  find  myself  here  also  in  complete  sympathy  with 
you.  About  the  Christian  sacrifice  we  agree,  I  believe,  fully ;  but  as  to  the 
Communion,  as  distinct  from  the  Sacrifice,  there  is  something  in  you  and  in 
Coleridge,  as  there  is  of  course  in  Luther  also,  which  I  do  not  find  in  my- 
self, and' with  which,  as  yet.  to  say  the  very  truth,  I  cannot  bring  myself  to 
agree. 


CCXH.      TO   JAMES    MARSHALL,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  October  30,  1839. 

You  will  think,  I  am  afraid,  that  my  zeal  has  cooled  away  to  nothing, 
since  I  had  last  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you ;  but  it  was  only  last  week,  that 
I  received  an  answer,  partly  direct  and  partly  indirect,  with  regard  to  some 
of  those  whose  co-operation  we  had  wished  to  gain 's  an- 
swer is,  that  he  thinks  a  Society  would  be  impracticable,  for  that  men  will 
not  agree  as  to  the  remedy,  and  unless  some  remedy  is  proposed,  there  will 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  349 

be  no  good,  lie  thinks,  in  merely  laying  bare  the  disease.     And  he  thinks 

that will  take  the  same  view  of  the  question  with  himself.     So  far, 

then,  there  is  a  rebuff  for  us  ;  but  I  think  that  we  must  not  be  discouraged, 
and  that  efforts  may  be  made  in  other  quarters ;  if  these  also  fail,  then  I 
think  that  publication  must  be  tried,  and  the  point  noticed,  if  possible,  in 
some  of  the  leading  reviews  and  newspapers  ;  but  for  this  details  are  wanted  ; 
details  at  once  exact  and  lively,  which  I  imagine  it  will  be  difficult  to  pro  - 
cure  for  the  whole  kingdom,  except  through  the  mechanism  of  a  Society.  For 
"Manchester  there  is,  I  believe,  a  Statistical  Society  which  would  afford 
some  good  materials.  At  present  people  are  still  so  scattered  about,  many 
being  on  the  Continent,  that  it  is  difficult  to  get  at  them.  But  in  the  vacation 
I  hope  to  be  moving  about  to  different  parts  of  England,  and  then  I  may  be 
able  to  find  somebody  who  may  be  useful.  And  meantime  I  shall  do  what 
alone  lies  in  my  power,  viz.,  write  one  or  two  articles  on  the  subject  in  the 
Hertford  Reformer,  in  which  I  have  written  more  than  once  already.  I 
shall  be  delighted  to  hear  from  you,  and  to  learn  whether  you  have  made 
any  progress,  and  whether  you  have  any  suggestions  to  communicate. 


CCXIII.       *T0    H.    BALSTON,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  Nov  21,  1839. 

With  regard  to  the  questions  in  your  letter,  I  hold  that  to 

a  great  degree  in  the  choice  of  a  profession,  "  sua  cuique  Deus  fit  dira  cupi- 
do,"  a  man's  inclination  for  a  calling  is  a  great  presumption  that  he  either 
is  or  will  be  fit  for  it.  And  in  education  this  holds  very  strongly,  for  he  who 
likes  boys  has  probably  a  daily  sympathy  with  them  ;  and  to  be  in  sympathy 
with  the  mind  you  propose  to  influence  is  at  once  indispensable,  and  will 
enable  you  to  a  great  degree  to  succeed  in  influencing  it. 

Another  point  to  which  I  attach  much  importance  is  liveliness.  This 
seems  to  me  an  essential  condition  of  sympathy  with  creatures  so  lively  as 
boys  are  naturally,  and  it  is  a  great  matter  to  make  them  understand  that 
liveliness  is  not  folly  or  thoughtlessness.  Now  I  think  the  prevailing  manner 
amongst  many  very  valuable  men  at  Oxford  is  the  very  opposite  to  liveli- 
ness ;  and  I  think  that  this  is  the  case  partly  with  yourself;  not  at  all  from 
affectation,  but  from  natural  temper,  encouraged,  perhaps,  rather  than  check 
ed,  by  a  belief  that  it  is  right  and  becoming.  But  this  appears  to  me  to  be 
in  point  of  manner  the  great  difference  between  a  clergyman  with  a  parish 
and  a  schoolmaster.  It  is  an  illustration  of  St.  Paul's  rule,  "  Rejoice  with 
them  that  rejoice,  and  weep  with  them  that  weep."  A  clergyman's  inter- 
course is  very  much  with  the  sick  and  the  poor,  where  liveliness  would  be 
greatly  misplaced  ;  but  a  schoolmaster's  is  with  the  young,  the  strong,  and 
the  happy,  and  he  cannot  get  on  with  them  unless  in  animal  spirits  he  can 
sympathize  with  them,  and  show  them  that  his  thoughtfulness  is  not  con- 
nected with  selfishness  and  weakness.  At  least,  this  applies,  I  think,  to  a 
young  man;  for  when  a  teacher  gets  to  an  advanced  age,  gravity,  I  suppose, 
would  not  misbecome  him.  for  liveliness  might  then  seem  unnatural,  and  his 
sympathy  with  boys  must  be  limited,  I  suppose,  then,  to  their  great  interests 
rather  than  their  feelings. 

You  can  j  udge  what  truth  may  be  in  this  notion  of  mine  generally ;  and 
if  true,  how  far  it  is  applicable  to  your  own  case  ;  but,  knowing  you  as  I  do, 
my  advice  to  you  would  be  to  follow  that  line  for  which  you  seem  to  have 
the  most  evident  calling  ;  and  surely  the  sign  of  God's  calling  in  such  a 
case  is  to  be  sought  in  our  own  reasonable  inclination,  for  the  tastes  and 
faculties  which  he  gives  us  are  the  marks  of  our  fitness  for  one  thing  rather 
than  another. 


350  LIFE  OF    DR-  ARNOLD. 


CCXIV.      TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.      (D.) 

Fox  How,  December  20,  1839. 

It  is  just  one  and  twenty  years  ago  this  very  day  that  I  was  ordained 
Deacon  at  Oxford,  and  I  wish  this  letter  to  reach  you  on  Sunday,  when  I 
suppose  you  will  be  ordained  at  the  same  place  to  the  same  office.  I  had 
enough  and  more  than  enough  of  scruples  and  difficulties,  not  before  only, 

but  afterwards  for  a  long  time But  I  have  been  satisfied  now 

for  many  years, — and  wonder  almost  that  I  ever  could  have  been  otherwise, 
—that  Ordination  was  never  meant  to  be  closed  against  those  who,  having 
been  conscientious  members  of  the  Church  before,  and  wishing  in  earnest 
to  be  ministers  of  the  Church  now,  holding  its  truths  and  sympathizing  in 
its  spirit,  yet  cannot  yield  an  active  belief  to  the  words  of  every  part  of  the 
Articles  and  Liturgy  as  true,  without  qualification  or  explanation.  And  I  think 
so  on  historical  as  well  as  on  a  priori  grounds ;  on  historical, — from  the  fact 
that  the  subscriptions  were  made  more  stringent  in  their  form  to  meet  the 
case  of  those  whose  minds,  or  rather  tempers,  were  so  uncomplying,  that 
they  would  use  in  the  service  of  the  Church  no  expressions  which  they  did 
not  approve  of;  and  therefore  the  party  in  power,  to  secure  the  conformity, 
required  a  pledge  of  approbation ; — and  also  from  the  expressed  opinion  of 
Bull,  Usher,  and  others ;  opinions  not  at  all  to  be  taken  to  such  an  extent  as 
if  the  Articles  were  articles  of  peace  merely,  but  abundantly  asserting  that 
a  whole  Church  never  can  be  expected  to  agree  in  the  absolute  truth  of  such 
a  number  of  propositions  as  are  contained  in  the  Articles  and  Liturgy.  This 
consideration  seems  to  me  also  decisive  on  a  priori  grounds.  For  otherwise 
the  Church  could  by  necessity  receive  into  the  ministry  only  men  of  dull 
minds  or  dull  consciences ;  of  dull,  nay  almost  of  dishonest  minds,  if  they  can 
persuade  themselves  that  they  actually  agree  in  every  minute  particular  with 
any  great  number  of  human  propositions ;  of  dull  consciences,  if  exercising 
theirminds  freely  and  yet.  believing  that  the  Church  requires  the  total  ad- 
hesion of  the  understanding,  they  still,  for  considerations  of  their  own  con- 
venience, enter  into  the  ministry  in  her  despite. 

You  will  say  that  this  makes  the  degree  of  adhesion  required  indefinite. 
And  so  it  must  be :  yet  these  things,  so  seemingly  indefinite,  are  not  really 
so  to  an  honest  and  sensible  mind ;  for  such  a  mind  knows  whether  it.  is  really 
in  sympathy  with  the  Church  in  its  main  faith  and  feelings;  and,  if  it  be  not, 
then  subscription  would  indeed  be  deceitful ;  but,  if  it  be,  to  refuse  subscrip- 
tion would,  I  think,  be  at  once  unjust  to  the  Church  and  to  itself. 

Enough,  however,  of  this ;  I  earnestly  hope  and  pray  that  your  entrance 
into  the  ministry  may  be  to  God's  glory,  to  the  good  of  his  Church,  and  to 
your  own  great  blessing.  To  have  a  ministry  in  the  Church  is  a  great 
honour,  and  a  great  responsibility ;  yet  in  both  it  is  far  inferior  to  the  privilege 
of  being  a  member  of  the  Church.  In  our  heavenly  commonwealth  the  jus 
civitatis  is  a  thousand  times  greater  than  the  jus  honorum ;  and  he  who  most 
magnifies  the  solemnity  of  Baptism,  will  be  inclined  to  value  most  truly  the 
far  inferior  solemnity  of  Ordination.  ,       - 

You  are  entering  on  an  office  extinct  in  all  but  name.  If  it  could  be 
revived  in  power,  it  would  be  one  of  the  greatest  blessings  that  could  be 

conferred  on  the  Church.     I  wish  you  would  talk  to about  this ;  and  if 

a  book  on  this  point  could  be  got  up  between  us,  I  think  it  could  excite  no 
offence,  and  might  lead  to  very  great  good.  God  bless  you  ever  in  this  and 
in  all  your  undertakings,  through  Jesus  Christ. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD  35  j 


(In  answer  to  a  request  for  a  subscription  to  a  church  ) 

Fox  How,  December  22,  1839. 

Your  letter  followed  me  hither  from  Rugby,  and  I  only  reply  to  it,  that 
you  may  not  think  me  neglectful  if  I  delayed  my  answer  till  my  return  to 
Warwickshire. 

I  shall  be  happy  to  subscribe  towards  the  endowment  of  the  Church  and 
not  towards  the  building.  My  reason  for  this  distinction  is,  that  I  think  in  all 
cases  the  right  plan  to  pursue  is  to  raise  funds  in  the  first  instance  for  a 
clergyman,  and  to  procure  for  him  a  definitely  marked  district  as  his  cure. 
The  real  Church  being  thus  founded,  if  money  can  also  be  procured  for  the 
material  Church,  so  much  the  better.  If  not,  I  would  wish  to  see  any  build- 
ing in  the  district  licensed  for  the  temporary  performance  of  Divine  Service, 
feeling  perfectly  sure  that  the  zeal  and  munificence  of  the  congregation 
would  in  the  course  of  years  raise  a  far  more  ornamental  building  than  can 
ever  be  raised  by  public  subscription ;  and  that,  in  the  mean  time,  there 
might  be  raised  by  subscription  an  adequate  fund  for  the  maintenance  of  a 
clergyman ;  whereas,  on  the  present  system,  it  seems  perfectly  hopeless  by 
any  subscriptions  in  one  generation  to  provide  both  clergymen  and  churches 
in  numbers  equal  to  the  wants  of  the  country. 

I  should  not  have  troubled  you  with  my  opinions,  which  I  am  aware  are 
of  no  importance  to  you,  did  I  not  wish  to  explain  the  reason  which  makes 
me,  in  such  cases,  always  desirous  of  contributing  to  the  endowment  of  a 
minister  rather  than  to  the  building. 


CCXVI.       TO    THE    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Fox  How,  December  29,  1839. 

......  I  retained  the  benefit  of  my  continental  tour  throughout  the 

half-year,  insomuch  that  at  the  very  end  of  it,  after  the  examination,  I  felt 
as  if  I  was  not  entitled  to  my  vacation,  because  I  was  so  perfectly  untired 
by  my  past  work.     This  alone  could  tell  you  that  the  school  had  gone  on 

quietly,  as  indeed  was  the  case It  seems  to  me  that  people  are 

not  enough  aware  of  the  monstrous  state  of  society,  absolutely  without  a 
parallel  in  the  history  of  the  world, — with  a  population  poor,  miserable,  and 
degraded  in  body  and  mind,  as  much  as  it"  they  were  slaves,  and  yet  called 
freemen,  and  having  a  power  as  such  of  concerting  and  combining  plans  of 
risings,  which  makes  them  ten  times  more  dangerous  than  slaves.  And  the 
hopes  entertained  by  many  of  the  effects  to  be  wrought  by  new  churches  and 
schools,  while  the  social  evils  of  their  condition  are  left  uncorrected,  appear 
to  me  to  be  utterly  wild.  Meanwhile  here,  as  usual,  we  seem  to  be  in  an- 
other world,  for  the  quietness  of  the  valleys  and  the  comparative  comfort 
and  independence  of  this  population  are  a  delightful  contrast  to  what  one 
finds  almost  every  where  else.  We  have  had  heavy  rains  and  a  flood,  but 
now  both  are  gone,  and  the  weather  is  beautiful,  and  the  country  most  mag- 
nificent— snow  on  all  the  high  hills,  but  none  on  the  low  hills  or  in  the  valleys. 


CCXVIl.       TO   JAMES    MARSHALL,   ESQ. 

Fox  How,  January  1,  1840. 

I  may  be  wrong  as  to  the  necessity  of  gaining  more  informa- 
tion, but  I  think  I  am  not  wrong  in  wishing  to  secure  a  more  extensive  and 
universal  co-operation,  before  any  thing  is  ventured  remedially. — I  would 


352  LIFE  0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

join  half  a  dozen  men,  or  even  fewer,  if  the  ohject  be  merely  to  collect  and 
circulate  facts  such  as  may  fix  the  public  attention  ;  but,  if  more  be  proposed 
to  be  done,  I  dread  the  thing's  assuming  a  party  character,  and  I  could  not 
myself  undertake  to  sanction  a  sort  of  political  mission  system,  without 
knowing  more  exactly  than  I  can  well  expect  to  know,  the  characters  and 
discretion  and  opinions  of  the  agents  to  be  employed.  And,  even  if  I  could 
depend  on  these,  yet  I  do  not  think  that  they  could  be  successful,  for  the 
evil  is  far  deeper,  as  I  believe,  than  can  be  cured  without  the  aid  of 
the  Government  and  Legislature.  I  quite  agree  with  you  in  the  wisdom  of 
forming  local  societies  and  a  general  Central  Society ;  and  I  should  wish 
the  local  societies  to  consist  of  men  of  all  classes,  including  certainly  the 
working  classes ;  every  possible  information  collected  by  such  societies 
would  be  most  valuable,  but  why  should  they  go  on  to  the  farther  step  of 
endeavouring  by  tracts  or  missionaries  to  influence  the  mass  of  the  working 
classes,  or  to  propose  remedies  ?  For  instance,  in  Leeds  I  can  conceive  that 
benevolent  men  among  the  highest  Conservatives,  and  among  the  clergy 
especially,  would  join  a  society  which  really  only  sought  to  collect  information  ; 
but  they  could  not,  and  would  not,  if  it  endeavoured  to  do  more,  because 
the  differences  of  opinion  between  you  and  them  render  it  impossible  for  you 
to  agree  in  what  you  should  disseminate.  The  Society  would  therefore 
consist,  I  think,  exclusively  of  men  of  what  is  called  the  Liberal  party,  and 
principally  of  Dissenters ;  and  this  would  be,  I  think,  a  great  pity,  and 
would  cripple  our  operations  sadly.  I  confess  I  am  very  suspicious  of  bodies 
of  men  belonging  all  to  one  party,  even  although  that  party  be  the  one  with 
which  I  should  in  the  main  myself  agree,  and  for  this  reason,  I  as  little  like 
the  composition  of  the  University  of  London,  as  I  do  that  of  the  University 
of  Oxford. 


CCXVIII.       TO    THE    REV.  J.  HEARN. 

Fox  How,  Ambleside,  January  5,  1840. 

I  must  not  let  more  of  my  time  at  Fox  How  pass  away  without  writ- 
ing to  you,  for  I  wish  much  to  know  how  you  are,  and  how  you  bear 
the  winter.  Your  letter  of  September  7th,  gave  me  a  better  account  of 
you  than  your  former  note  had  done,  and  I  was  very  glad  to  learn  that  you 
were  better.  Still  you  did  not  write  as  if  you  were  quite  well,  and  I  do  not 
like  to  hear  of  any  disorder  or  languor  hanging  about  you,  however  slight ; 
for  you  are  not  old  enough  to  feel  any  natural  decay,  and  slight,  indisposition 
requires  to  be  watched,  lest  it  should  become  serious.  But  I  love  to  think 
of  the  quiet  of  Hatford  for  you,  which,  if  your  complaints  are  bodily  merely, 
must  be  very  good  for  you  ;  if  you  feel  any  nervousness  or  oppression  of 
spirits,  then  I  suspect  a  little  more  of  the  stir  of  life  would  be  very  good  for 
you ;  and  we  should  be  delighted  to  see  you  and  Mrs.  Hearn  and  your  little 
ones  at  Rugby,  where  you  might  have  enough  of  movement  around  you, 
and  yet  might  be  yourself  as  much  at  rest  as  you  chose.  I  sometimes  think, 
that  if  I  were  at  all  in  nervous  spirits,  the  solemn  beauty  of  this  valley 
would  be  almost  overwhelming,  and  that  brick  streets  and  common  hedge- 
rows would  be  better  for  me  ;  just  as  now,  whilst  my  life  is  necessarily  so 
stirring,  and  my  health  so  good,  there  is  an  extreme  delight  in  the  peaceful- 
ness  of  our  life  here,  and  in  the  quiet  of  all  around  us.  Last  night  we  were 
out  on  the  gravel  walk  for  nearly  half  an  hour,  watching  the  northern  lights. 
I  never  saw  them  so  beautiful ;  the  sky  in  the  north  behind  the  mountains 
was  all  of  a  silvery  light,  while  in  other  parts  it  was  dark  as  usual,  and  all 
set  with  its  stars ;  then,  from  the  mass  of  light  before  us,  there  shot  up  con- 
tinually long  white  pillars  or  needles,  reaching  1o  the  zenith  ;  and  then  again, 
fleeces  of  light  would  go  quivering  like  a  pulse  all  over  the  sky,  till  they 
died  away  in  the  far  south.     And  to-day  there  is  not  a  cloud  to  be  seen 


LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  353 

and  the  mountain  before  our  windows  reflects  the  sun's  light  upon  us  like  a 
great  mirror,  we  ourselves  being  in  the  shade,  for  the  sun  soon  sets  on  this 

side  of  the  valley 

P.  S Have  you  seen  Taylor's  book  on  Early  Chris- 
tianity ?  With  much  allowance  for  an  unpleasant  manner,  and  some  other 
faults,  yet  I  think  he  is  right  in  his  main  point,  that  the  question  at  issue  is 

really  one  of  Christianity  or  of  the  Church  system Because 

I  believe  the  New  Testament  to  represent  Christianity  truly,  therefore  I 
"reject  the  Church  system,  and  I  think  that  the  Church  of  England  does  ex- 
actly the  same  thing  for  the  same  reason.  But  that  the  Church  has  always 
faithfully  preserved  the  Christian  doctrine  in  other  points,  and  much  of  the 
purity  of  Christian  holiness,  I  acknowledge ,  thankfully ;  and  therefore,  al- 
though I  think  that  in  one  point  Antichrist  was  in  the  Church  from  the  first 
century,  yet  God  forbid  that  I  should  call  the  Church  Antichrist.  It  pre- 
served much  truth  and  much  holiness,  with  one  fatal  error,  subversive,  indeed, 
in  its  consequences,  both  of  truth  and  goodness,  but  which  has  not  always 
developed  its  full  consequences,  nor  was  even  distinctly  conscious  of  its 
own  ground.  But  that  the  modern  Newmanites  are  far  worse  than  the  early 
Church  writers  is  certain,  and  many  of  their  doctrines  are  disclaimed  and 
condemned  by  those  writers ;  only  in  their  peculiar  system,  they  are  the 
development  of  that  system  which,  in  the  early  Church,  existed  in  the  bud 
only;  and  which,  as  being  directly  opposed  to  our  Lord's  religion,  as  taught 
by  Him  and  His  Apostles,  I  call  Antichrist. 


CCXIX.       TO    J.  C.   PLATT,  ESQ. 

Fox  How,  January  12,  1840. 

It  is  a  very  long  time  since  I  have  written  to  you  ;  your  last  letter  to  me 
being  dated,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  nearly  a  year  ago.  But  I  intended  to 
write  to  you  from  this  place  in  the  summer  ;  and  then  my  stay  here  was  so 
short,  that  I  had  no  time  for  any  thing,  the  greater  part  of  my  holidays 
having  been  passed  on  the  Continent. 

1  think  that  1  have  to  thank  you  for  introducing  so  much  of  my  little 
Lecture,  on  the  Divisions  of  Knowledge,  into  the  Penny  Magazine.  I 
printed  it,  thinking  that  it  might  be  useful  to  the  members  of  Mechanics' 
Institutions ;  but  having  printed  it  at  Rugby,  and  no  publisher  having  an 
interest  in  it,  and  it  not  having  been  advertised,  it  has  had,  I  suppose,  but  a 
very  limited  circulation.  I  was  very  glad  therefore  to  see  such  large  ex- 
tracts from  it  in  the  Penny  Magazine,  which  must  have  brought  it  to  the 
knowledge  of  many  readers,  although  perhaps  not  exactly  of  that  class  for 
whom  I  most  designed  it. 

I  shall  be  very  glad  if  you  can  give  me  good  accounts  of  yourself  and 
all  your  family.  Our  life  goes  on  with  very  little  variety  beyond  its  own 
even  alternations  of  vacation  and  half-year ;  and  I  could  be  too  happy  if 
private  comfort  did  not  seem  almost  inconsistent  with  justice,  while  the  state 
of  public  affairs  is  so  troubled  If  you  see  the  Herts  Reformer,  you  will 
have  observed  that  I  have  still  continued  from  time  to  time  to  write  on  my 
old  subject,  and  latterly  I  have  been  trying  to  form  a  Society  to  collect  in- 
formation, and  draw  public  attention  to  the  question.  The  difficulties  are 
very  great,  but  I  do  hope  that  something  will  be  done,  for  I  see  that  men 
are  interested  in  the  question  who  have  a  personal  interest  in  manufactures, 
and  a  practical  knowledge  of  the  state  of  the  people.  Such  men  may  really 
do  great  good,  but  I  can  do  nothing  more  than  pull  the  bell,  as  it  were,  and 
try  to  give  the  alarm  as  to  the  magnitude  of  the  danger.     I  was  very  much 

struck  with  Mr.  Gill's  speech  the  other  day  in  answer  to .     I  do  not 

know  how  you  find  it,  but  for  myself  I  cannot  go  cordially  along  with  the 
Radical  party,  philosophical  or  otherwise,  even  on  points  where  in  the  main 


354  LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

I  agree  with  them.  They  all  seem  to  me  more  or  less  overrun  with  two 
things,  Benthamism  and  Political  Economy ;  and  Bentham  I  have  always 
thought  a  bad  man,  and  also,  as  Carlyle  called  him  in  a  letter  to  a  friend  of 
mine,  "  a  bore  of  the  first  magnitude."  I  believe  I  agree  with  the  Radicals 
as  to  the  mischief  of  the  Corn  Laws  ;  yet  I  cannot  but  tbink  that  the  Chart- 
ists have  some  reason  in  their  complaint,  that  the  clamour  about  the  Corn 
Laws  is  rather  leading  men  off  on  a  false  scent,  and  that  the  Repeal  will  not 
benefit  the  working  man  so  much  as  it  is  expected.     You  will  not,  however, 

suspect  me  of  thinking  that  the  true  scent  is  to  be  found  in  following 'e 

notions  of  universal  suffrage  and  universal  plunder.  He  and  his  companions 
continually  reminded  me  of  slaves,  of  men  so  brutalized  by  their  seclusion 
from  the  pale  of  society,  that  they  have  lost  all  value  for  the  knowledge  and 
morality  of  the  civilized  world,  and  have  really  no  more  ideas  of  the  use  to 
be  made  of  all  the  manifold  inventions  and  revelations  of  six  thousand  years, 
than  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  dog  had  of  the  value  of  his  master's  problems. 
The  cry  against  property  is  just  the  cry  of  a  slave,  who,  being  incapable  of 
holding  any  thing  himself  as  his  own,  has  no  notion  of  any  harm  in  steal- 
ing,— stealing,  in  fact,  is  hardly  a  word  in  his  language.  It  is  certain,  I 
suppose,  that  a  certain  moral  and  social  training  are  necessary  in  order  to 
enable  us  to  appreciate  truths  which,  to  those  who  have  had  that  training, 
are  the  very  life  of  their  life.  And  again,  there  is  a  course  of  training  so 
mischievous,  and  degradation  and  distress  are  such  a  curse,  as  absolutely 
to  make  men  believe  a  lie,  and  to  take  away  lhat  common  standing  ground 
of  a  general  sense  of  the  principles  of  right  and  wrong,  on  which  we  meet 
uncorrupted  ignorance,  and  so  are  able  to  lead  it  on  to  a  sense  of  the  purest 
truths  and  the  highest.  You  mentioned  Laing's  book  on  Norway  to  me.  I 
have  got  it,  and  like  it  very  much ;  but  it  is  easier  to  admire,  and  almost 
envy,  the  example  of  Norwegian  society,  than  to  apply  it  to  our  own  state 
here.  It  would  be  a  great  comfort  to  me  if  your  experience  and  observa- 
tion have  led  you  to  look  on  matters  more  hopefully  ;  and  yet  no  man  feels 
more  keenly  than  I  do  the  vast  amount  of  goodness  and  energy  which  we 
have  amongst  us.  How  noble,  after  all,  is  the  sight  of  these  Trials  for 
high  treason.  Such  deliberation  and  dignity,  and  perfect  fairness,  and  even 
gentleness  on  the  part  of  the  Government  and  the  law,  in  dealing  with  guilt 
so  recent,  so  great,  and  so  palpable.  Therefore  we  cannot  be  without  hope 
that,  with  God's  blessing,  we  may  get  over  our  evils,  although  I  own  with 
me  that  fear  is  stronger  than  hope. 


CCXX.       TO    THOMAS    CARLYLE,    ESd. 

Rugby,  January,  1840. 

A  note  of  yours  to  our  common  acquaintance,  Mr.  James  Marshall,  fur- 
nishes, I  believe,  the  only  shadow  of  a  pretence  which  I  could  claim  for  ad- 
dressing you,  according  to  the  ordinary  forms  of  society.  But  I  should  be 
ashamed,  to  you  above  all  men,  to  avail  myself  of  a  mere  pretence;  and  my 
true  reason  for  addressing  you  is  because  I  believe  you  sympathize  with  me 
on  that  most  important  subject,  the  welfare  of  the  poorer  classes,  and  be- 
cause I  know,  from  your  History  of  the  French  Revolution,  that  you  under- 
stand the  real  nature  and  magnitude  of  the  evil,  which  so  many  appear  to 
me  neither  to  comprehend  nor  to  feel. 

I  have  been  trying,  hitherto  with  no  success,  to  form  a  Society,  the  ob- 
ject of  which  should  be  to  collect  information  as  to  every  point  in  the  con- 
dition of  the  poor  throughout  the  kingdom,  and  to  call  public  attention  to  if 
by  every  possible  means,  whether  by  the  press  or  by  yearly  or  quarterly 
meetings.  And  as  I  am  most  anxious  to  secure  the  co-operation  of  good 
men  of  all  parties,  it  seems  to  me  a  necessary  condition  that  the  Society 
should  broach  no  theories,  and  propose  no  remedies  ;  that  it  should  simply 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  355 

collect  information,  and  rouse  the  attention  of  the  country  to  the  infinite  im- 
portance of  the  subject.  You  know  full  well  that  wisdom  in  the  higher 
sense  and  practical  knowledge  are  rarely  found  in  the  same  man ;  and,  if 
any  theory  be  started,  which  contains  something  not  suited  to  practice,  all 
the  so-called  practical  men  cry  out  against  the  folly  of  all  theories,  and  con- 
clude themselves,  and  lead  the  vulgar  to  the  conclusion,  that,  because  one 
particular  remedy  has  been  prescribed  ignorantly,  no  remedy  is  needed,  or 
at  least  none  is  practicable. 

I  see  by  the  newspapers  that  you  are  writing  on  Chartism,  and  I  aro 
heartily  glad  to  hear  of  it.  I  shall  be  curious  to  know  whether  you  have 
any  definite  notions  as  to  the  means  of  relieving  the  fearful  evils  of  our  so- 
cial condition,  or  whether  you,  like  myself,  are  overwhelmed  by  the  magni- 
tude of  the  mischief,  and  are  inclined  to  say,  like  the  Persian  fatalist  in  Her- 
odotus, ix&iarri  <)dvvr\  nolla  cpoovfovta  [tr\divo<;  xoart'eiv. 

I  have  no  sort  of  desire  to  push  my  proposal  about  a  Society,  and  would 
gladly  be  guided  by  wiser  men  as  to  what  is  best  to  be  done.  But  I  cannot, 
I  am  sure,  be  mistaken  as  to  this,  that  the  state  of  society  in  England  at 
this  moment  was  never  yet  paralleled  in  history ;  and  though  I  have  no 
stake  on  the  country  as  far  as  property  is  concerned,  yet  I  have  a  wife  and 
a  large  family  of  children  ;  and  I  do  not  wish  to  lose,  either  for  them  or  my- 
self, all  those  thousand  ties,  so  noble  and  so  sacred  and  so  dear,  which  bind  us 
to  our  country,  as  she  was  and  as  she  is,  with  all  her  imperfections  and  diffi- 
culties. If  you  think  that  any  thing  can  be  done,  which  could  interest  any- 
other  persons  on  the  subject,  I  should  be  delighted  to  give  aid  in  any  possi- 
ble manner  to  the  extent  of  my  abilities.  I  owe  you  many  apologies  for 
writing  thus  to  a  perfect  stranger, — but  ever  since  I  read  your  History  of 
the  French  Revolution,  I  have  longed  to  become  acquainted  with  you ;  be- 
cause I  found  in  that  book  an  understanding  of  the  true  nature  of  history, 
such  as  it  delighted  my  heart  to  meet  with ;  and,  having  from  a  child  felt 
the  deepest  interest  in  the  story  of  the  French  Revolution,  and  read  pretty- 
largely  about  it,  I  was  somewhat  in  a  condition  to  appreciate  the  richness 
of  your  knowledge,  and  the  wisdom  of  your  judgments.  I  do  not  mean  that  I 
agree  with  you  in  all  these  ;  in  some  instances  I  should  differ  very  decid- 
edly ;  but  still  the  wisdom  of  the  book,  as  well  as  its  singular  eloquence  and 
poetry,  was  such  a  treasure  to  me,  as  I  have  rarely  met  with,  arid  am  not  at 
all  likely  to  meet  with  again. 


CCXXI.       TO    JAMES    MARSHALL,    ESQ. 

Fox  How,  January  23,  1840. 

I  thank  you  much  for  your  last  letter,  and  I  assure  you  that  I  attach  a 
great  value  to  such  communications  from  you.  The  scheme  of  a  newspaper 
I  actually  tried  myself  nine  years  ago,  and  spent  above  two  hundred  pounds- 
upon  it.  I  was  not  so  foolish  as  to  think  that  I  could  keep  up  a  newspaper ; 
but  I  was  willing  to  bell  the  cat,  hoping  that  some  who  were  able  might  take 
up  what  I  had  begun.  But  no  one  did,  and  the  thing  died  a  natural  death 
at  the  end  of  two  months.  I  feel,  however,  so  strongly  the  desirableness  of 
such  an  attempt,  that  I  am  ready  again  to  contribute  money  or  writing, 
or  both,  to  the  same  cause ;  and  I  should  be  doubly  glad  if  we  could  effect 
both  the  objects  you  speak  of,  a  daily  paper  and  a  weekly  one.  It  seems, 
to  me,  however,  desirable  that  at  this  point  I  should  make  somewhat  of  a 
confession  of  my  political  faith  to  you,  that  you  may  know  how  far  my  views 
would  coincide  with  yours. 

My  differences  with  the  Liberal  Party  would  turn,  I  think,  chiefly  on  two 
points.  First,  I  agree  with  Carlyle,  in  thinking  that  they  greatly  over-esti- 
mate Bentham,  and  also  that  they  over-rate  the  Political  Economists  gene- 
rally ;    not  that  I  doubt  the  ability  of  those  writers,  or  the  truth  of  their 


356  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

conclusions,  as  far  as  regards  their  own  science, — but  I  think  that  the  sum- 
mum  bonum  of  their  science,  and  of  human  life,  are  not  identical ;  and 
therefore,  many  questions  in  which  free  trade  is  involved,  and  the  advan- 
tages of  large  capital,  &c,  although  perfectly  simple  in  an  economical  point  of 
view,  become,  when  considered  politically,  very  complex ;  and  the  eco- 
nomical good  is  very  often  from  the  neglect  of  other  points  made  in  practice 
a  direct  social  evil. 

But  my  second  difference  is  greater  by  much  than  this ;  I  look  to  the  full 
development  of  the  Christian  Church  in  its  perfect  form,  as  the  Kingdom 
of  God,  for  the  most  effective  removal  of  all  evil,  and  promotion  of  all  good  : 
and  I  can  understand  no  perfect  Church,  or  perfect  State,  without  their 
blending  into  one  in  this  ultimate  form.  I  believe,  farther,  that  our  fathers  at 
the  Reformation  stumbled  accidentally,  or  rather  were  unconsciously  led  by 
God's  Providence,  to  the  declaration  of  the  great  principle  of  this  system, 
the  doctrine  of  the  King's  Supremacy ; — which  is,  in  fact,  no  other  than  an 
assertion  of  the  supremacy  of  the  Church  or  Christian  society  over  the 
clergy,  and  a  denial  of  that  which  I  hold  to  be  one  of  the  most  mischievous 
falsehoods  ever  broached, — that  the  government  of  the  Christian  Church  is 
vested  by  divine  right  in  the  clergy,  and  that  the  close  corporation  of  bishops 
and  presbyters, — whether  one  or  more,  it  makes  no  difference, — is  and  ever 
ought  to  be  the  representative  of  the  Christian  Church.  Holding  this  doc- 
trine as  the  very  corner  stone  of  all  my  political  belief,  I  am  equally  opposed 
to  Popery,  High  Churchism,  and  the  claims  of  the  Scotch  Presbyteries,  on 
the  one  hand ;  and  to  all  the  Independents,  and  advocates  of  the  separation, 
as  they  call  it,  of  Church  and  State,  on  the  other ;  the  first  setting  up  a 
Priesthood  in  the  place  of  the  Church,  and  the  other  lowering  necessarily 
the  objects  of  Law  and  Government,  and  reducing  them  to  a  mere  system 
of  police,  while  they  profess  to  wish  to  make  the  Church  purer.  And  my 
fondness  for  Greek  and  German  literature  has  made  me  very  keenly  alive 
to  the  mental  defects  of  the  Dissenters  as  a  body ;  the  characteristic  faults 
of  the  English  mind, — narrowness  of  view,  and  a  want  of  learning  and  a 
sound  critical  spirit, — being  exhibited  to  my  mind  in  the  Dissenters  almost 
in  caricature.  It  is  nothing  but  painful  to  me  to  feel  this  ;  because  no  man 
appreciates  more  than  I  do  the  many  great  services  which  the  Dissenters 
have  rendered,  both  to  the  general  cause  of  Christianity,  and  especially  to 
the  cause  of  justice  and  good  government  in  our  own  country ;  and  my 
sense  of  the  far  less  excusable  errors,  and  almost  uniformly  mischievous  con- 
duct of  the  High  Church  party,'  is  as  strong  as  it  can  be  of  any  one  thing  in 
the  world. 

Again,  the  principle  of  Conservatism  has  always  appeared  to  me  to  be 
not  only  foolish,  but  1o  be  actually  felo  de  se:  it  destroys  what  it  loves,  be- 
cause it  will  not  mend  it.  But  I  cordially  agree  with  Niebuhr, — who  in  all 
such  questions  is  to  me  the  greatest  of  all  authorities ;  because,  together 
with  an  ability  equal  to  the  highest,  he  had  an  universal  knowledge  of  po- 
litical history,  far  more  profound  than  was  ever  possessed  by  any  other 
man, — that  every  new  institution  should  be  but  a  fuller  development  of,  or  an 
addition  to,  what  already  exists  ;  and  that  if  things  have  come  to  such  a  pass 
in  a  country,  that  all  its  past  history  and  associations  are  cast  away  as  merely 
bad,  Reform  in  such  a  country  is  impossible.  I  believe  it  to  be  necessary, 
and  quite  desirable,  that  the  popular  power  in  a  state  should,  in  the  perfec- 
tion of  things,  be  paramount  to  every  other ;  but  this  supremacy  need  not, 
and  ought  not,  I  think,  to  be  absolute ;  and  monarchy,  and  an  aristocracy  of 
birth, — as  distinguished  from  one  of  wealth  or  of  office, — appear  to  me  to 
be  two  precious  elements  which  still  exist  in  most  parts  of  Europe,  and  to 
lose  which,  as  has  been  done  unavoidably  in  America,  would  be  rather  our 
insanity  than  our  misfortune.  But  the  insolencies  of  our  aristocracy  no  one 
feels  more  keenly  than  I  do  :  the  scandalous  exemption1  of  the  peers  from 

'  This,  so  far  as  it  is  here  correctly  stated,  was  abolished  by  4  &  5  Vict.  cap.  22. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  357 

all  ignominious  punishments  short  of  death. — so  that  for  a  most  aggravated 
manslaughter  a  peer  must  escape  altogether,  as  the  old  Lord  Byron  did,  or 
as  the  Duchess  of  Kingston  did,  for  bigamy: — the  insolent  practice  of  allow- 
ing peers  to  vote  in  criminal  trials  on  their  honour,  while  other  men  vote  on 
their  oath  ;  the  absurdity  of  proxy  voting,  and  some  other  things  of  the  same 
nature.  All  theory  and  all  experience  show,  that  if  a  system  goes  on  long 
unreformed,  it  is  not  then  reformed,  but  destroyed.  And  so,  I  believe,  it 
will  be  with  our  Aristocracy  and  our  Church ;  because  I  fear  that  neither 
"  will  be  wise  in  time.  But  still,  looking  upon  both  as  positive  blessings — 
and  capable— the  latter  especially— of  doing  good  that  can  be  done  by  no 
other  means,  I  love  and  would  maintain  both,  not  as  a  concession  or  a  com- 
promise, but  precisely  with  the  same  zeal  that  I  would  reform  both,  and  en- 
large the  privileges  and  elevate  the  condition  of  the  mass  of  the  community. 
As  to  your  difference  of  opinion  with  Carlyle  about  the  craving  for  politi- 
cal rights,  I  agree  with  you  fully.  But  I  think  that,  before  distress  has  once 
got  in,  a  people  whose  physical  wants  are  well  supplied,  may  be  kept  for 
centuries  by  a  government  without  a  desire  for  political  power :  but,  when  the 
ranks  immediately  above  them  have  been  long  contending  earnestly  for  this 
very  power,  and  physical  distress  makes  them  impatient  of  their  actual  condi- 
tion, then  men  are  apt,  I  think,  to  attach  even  an  over-value  to  the  political 
remedy  ;  and  it  is  then  quite  too  late  to  try  to  fatten  them  into  obedience  :  other 
parts  of  their  nature  have  learnt  to  desire,  and  will  have  their  desire  gratified. 


CCXXII.       TO    SIR    THOMAS    PASLEY,    BART. 

Fox  How,  January  25,  1840. 

On  the  difficulties  of  Scripture  I  met ,  as  to  the 

matter  of  fact,  maintaining  that  the  differences  of  interpretation  are  few  in 
number  ;  and  that  many'ofthe  greatest  points  at  issue  are  altogether  foreign 
to  the  interpretation  of  Scripture,  and  are  argued  upon  other  grounds  ;  and 
that  where  the  Scripture  is  really  difficult,  there  the  boasted  authority  of  the 
Church  gives  no  help, — the  early  Christian  writers  having  been  quite  as 
much  puzzled  as  ourselves,  when  they  did  not  attempt  to  clear  themselves  by 

mere  guesses,  and  those  generally  very  bad  ones. I  have  been 

working  hard  every  morning  at  my  History,  and  have  wanted  the  evenings 
for  my  letters  ;  so  that  we  really  declined  dining  out  after  the  first  half  of  our 
stay.  The  second  volume  is  now  finished,  and  I  have  written  besides  four 
Sermons,  three  Letters  to  the  Herts  Reformer,  and  letters  of  other  sorts,  of 
course,  without  number.  I  have  had  a  considerable  correspondence  with 
Mr.  James  Marshall,  about  our  plan  of  a  Society  for  obtaining  and  dis- 
seminating information  about  the  poorer  clashes :  he  is  deeply  interested  in 
the  question.  Indeed,  it  is  only  a  wonder  to  me  that  every  one  is  not  ener- 
getic on  this  matter  ;  but  the  security  of  those  who  were  "  buying,  selling, 
planting,  and  building,  and  knew  not  till  the  flood  came  and  swept  them 
all  away,"  is  to  be  repeated,  I  suppose,  or  rather  will  be  repeated,  before 
each  of  our  Lord's  comings,  be  they  as  many  as  they  may.  I  have  often 
thought  of  New  Zealand,  and  if  they  would  make  you  Governor  and  me 
Bishop,  I  would  go  out,  I  think,  to-morrow, — not  to  return  after  so  many 
years,  put  to  live  and  die  there,  if  there  was  any  prospect  of  rearing  any 
hopeful  form  of  society.  I  have  actually  got  200  acres  in  New  Zealand,  and 
I  confess  that  my  thoughts  often  turn  thitherward  ;  but  that  vile  population 
of  runaway  convicts  and  others,  who  infest  the  country,  deter  me  more  than 
any  thing  else,  as  the  days  of  Roman  Proconsuls  are  over,  who  knew  so  well 
how  to  clear  a  country  of  such  nuisances.  Now,  1  suppose  they  will,  as 
they  find  it  convenient,  come  in  and  settle  down  quietly  amongst  the  colo- 
nists, as  Morgan  did  at  Kingston ;  and  the  ruffian  and  outlaw  of  yesterday 
becomes  to-day,  according  to  our  Jacobin  notions  of  citizenship,  a  citizen, 


358  LIFE  0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

and  perhaps  a  magistrate  and  a  legislator.  I  imagine  that  the  Jamaica  soci- 
ety has  never  recovered  the  mixture  of  Buccaneer  blood,  and  it  is  in  that 
way  that  colonial  societies  become  so  early  corrupted,  because  all  the  refuse 
of  old  societies  find  such  easy  access  into  them. 

I  am  very  glad,  indeed,  that  you  like  my  Prophecy  Sermons :  the  points 
in  particular  on  which  I  did  not  wish  to  enter,  if  I  could  help  it,  but  which 
very  likely  I  shall  be  forced  to  touch  on,  relate  to  the  latter  chapters  of 
Daniel,  which,  if  genuine,  would  be  a  clear  exception  to  my  canon  of  inter- 
pretation, as  there  can  be  no  reasonable  spiritual  meaning  made  out  of  the 
Kings  of  the  North  and  South.  But  I  have  long  thought  that  the  greater 
part  of  the  book  of  Daniel  is  most  certainly  a  very  late  work,  of  the  time  of 
the  Maccabees;  and  the  pretended  prophecy  about  the  Kings  of  Greciaand 
Persia,  and  of  the  North  and  South,  is  mere  history,  like  the  poetical  pro- 
phecies in  Virgil  and  elsewhere.  In  fact,  you  can  trace  distinctly  the  date 
when  it  was  written,  because  the  events  up  to  the  date  are  given  with  his- 
torical minuteness,  totally  unlike  the  character  of  real  Prophecy  ;  and  be- 
yond that  date  all  is  imaginary.  It  is  curious  that  when  there  was  so 
allowed  a  proof  of  the  existence  of  apocryphal  writings,  under  the  name  of 
the  Book  of  Daniel, — as  the  Stories  of  the  apocryphal  Esther,  Susanna,  and 
Bel  and  the  Dragon, — those  should  have  been  rejected,  because  they  were 
only  known  in  the  Greek  translation,  and  the  rest,  because  it  happened  to  be 
in  Chaldee,  was  received  at  once  in  the  lump,  and  defended  as  a  matter  of 
faith.  But  the  self-same  criticism  which  has  established  the  authenticity  of 
St.  John's  Gospel  against  all  questionings,  does,  I  think,  equally  prove  the 
non-authenticity  of  great  part  of  Daniel :  that  there  may  be  genuine  frag- 
ments in  it  is  very  likely. 


CCXXI1I.       TO    ARCHDEACON    HARE. 

Fox  How,  January  26  1840. 

The  Penny  postage  will  allow  me  to  trouble  you  with  a  question,  which 
otherwise  I  should  not  have  thought  it  worth  while  to  send  to  you.  Words- 
worth, I  think,  told  me  on  your  authority,  that  Niebuhr  had  spoken  with 
strong  disrespect  of  Coleridge's  Church  and  State.  Now,  as  I  respect 
Coleridge  exceedingly,  it  pains  me  to  think  that  Niebuhr  should  speak  with 
actual  disrespect  of  any  work  of  his  ;  and  it  seems  to  me  that  his  habit  of 
criticism  was  generally  mild  and  considerate.  On  the  other  hand,  Cole- 
ridge's Church  and  State  does  seem  to  me  to  be  historically  very  faulty,  and 
this  Niebuhr  would  feel.  I  doubt  not  very  keenly.  Can  you  tell  me  whatf 
Niebuhr's  judgment  of  the  book  really  was,  and  on  what  it  was  founded  V 

You  will   be   glad   to  hear,  I   think,  that   the  volumes  of 

Thirlwall's  Greece  seem  to  me  to  improve  as  the  work  advances.  There 
never  could  be  a  doubt  as  to  the  learning  and  good  sense  of  the  book  ;  but 
it  seems  to  me  to  be  growing  in  feeling  and  animation,  and  to  be  now  a  very 
delightful  history,  as  well  as  a  very  valuable  one Mr.  Mau- 
rice wrote  to  me  the  other  day,  to  say  that  he  had  sent  to  Rugby,  for  me, 
the  first  number  of  the  Educational  Magazine...  I  could  not  thank  him  be- 
cause I  did  not  know  his  address,  but  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  appear  inat- 
tentive to  a  man  whom  I  respect  so  highly  as  I  do  Mr.  Maurice. 


CCXXIV.      TO    W.    W.    HULL,    ESQ. 

Fox  How,  Jamrory24,  1840. 

We  are  going  to  leave  this  place,  if  all  be  well,  on  Monday;  and  I  con- 
fess that  it  makes  me  rather  sad  to  see  the  preparations  for  our  departure, 

'  This  question  has  been  inserted  merely  as  an  illustration  of  the  jealousy  with  which 
he  regarded  the  reputations  of  men  whom  he  really  reverenced.  It  does  not  appear  how 
far  Niebuhr's  unfavourable  judgment  was  deliberately  given. 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  359 

for  it  is  like  going  out  of  a  very  quiet  cove  into  a  very  rough  sea  ;  and  I  am 
every  year  approaching  nearer  to  that  time  of  life  when  rest  is  more  wel- 
come than  exertion.1  Yet,  when  I  think  of  what  is  at  stake,  on  that  rough 
sea,  I  feel  that  I  have  no  right  to  lie  in  harbour  idly ;  and  indeed  I  do  yearn 
more  than  I  can  say  to  be  able  to  render  some  service  where  service  is  so 
greatly  needed.  It  is  when  I  indulge  such  wishes  most  keenly,  and  only 
then,  that  strong  political  differences  between  my  friends  and  myself  are 
really  painful  ;  because  I  feel  that  not  only  could  we  not  act  together,  but 
there  would  be  no  sympathy  the  moment  I  were  to  express  any  thing  be- 
yond a  general  sense  of  anxiety  and  apprehension,  in  which  I  suppose  all 
good  men  must  share. 


CCXXV.       TO    MR.    JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Fox  How,  January  26,  1840. 

We  left  Rugby  this  time  so  early,  that  your  letter  followed  me  down 
here,  and  I  must  have  the  pleasure  of  answering  it  before  we  go  away,  which 
alas  !  must  be  to-morrow  morning.  We  talk  of  going  to  Norwich  for  a  few 
days,  to  see  the  Stanleys,  and  to  Cambridge,  before  we  settle  at  Rugby ;  and 
really,  in  these  most  troublous  times,  it  seems  more  than  is  allowable  to  be 
living,  as  we  are  here,  in  a  place  of  so  much  rest  and  beauty. 

Your  letter  interested  me  very  deeply,  and  I  have  thought  over  what 
you  say  very  often.  Yet  I  believe  that  no  man's  mind  has  ever  been  more 
consciously  influenced  by  others  than  mine  has  been  in  the  course  of  my  life, 
from  the  time  that  I  first  met  you  at  Corpus.  I  doubt  whether  you  ever 
submitted  to  another  with  the  same  complete  deference  as  I  did  to  you  when 
I  was  an  under-graduate.  So,  afterwards,  I  looked  up  to  Davison  with  ex- 
ceeding reverence, — and  to  Whately.  Nor  do  I  think  that  Keble  himself  has 
lived  on  in  more  habitual  respect  and  admiration  than  I  have,  only  the  ob- 
jects of  these  feelings  have  been  very  different.  At  this  day,  I  could  sit  at 
Bunsen's  feet,  and  drink  in  wisdom,  with  almost  intense  reverence.  But  I 
cannot  reverence  the  men  whom  Keble  reverences,  and  how  does  he  feel  to 
Luther  and  Milton  1  It  gives  me  no  pain  and  no  scruple  whatever  to  differ 
from  those  whom,  after  the  most  deliberate  judgment  that  I  can  form,  I  can- 
not find  to  be  worthy  of  admiration.  Nor  does  their  number  affect  me,  when 
all  are  manifestly  under  the  same  influences,  and  no  one  seems  to  be  a  mas- 
ter spirit,  fitted  to  lead  amongst  men.  But  with  wise  men  in  the  way  of 
their  wisdom,  it  would  give  me  very  great  pain  to  differ;  I  can  say  that 
truly  with  regard  to  your  Uncle,  even  more  with  regard  to  Niebuhr.  I  do 
not  know  a  single  subject  on  which  I  have  maintained  really  a  paradox, — 
that  is,  on  which  I  have  presumed  to  set  up  my  judgment  against  the  con- 
curring judgment  of  wise  men,  and  I  trust  I  never  should  do  it.  But  it  is 
surely  not  presumption  to  prefer  a  foreign  authority  to  one  nearer  home, 
when  both  are  in  themselves  perfectly  equal.  For  instance, — suppose  that 
any  point  in  English  Law,  although  steadily  defended  by  English  lawyers, 
was  at  variance  no  less  decidedly  with  the  practice  of  the  Roman  Law,  and 
condemned  by  the  greatest  jurists  and  philosophers  of  other  countries, — 
there  can  be  no  presumption,  as  it  seems  to  me,  in  taking  either  side  strongly 
according  as  a  man's  convictions  may  be  ;  nor  ought  one  to  be  taxed  with 
disrespect  of  authority  in  either  case  ;  because,  although  one  may  be  treating 
some  great  men  as  clearly  wrong,  yet  other  men  no  less  great  have  justified 
us  in  doing  so.  Perhaps  this  consciousness  of  the  actually  disputed  charac- 
ter of  many  points  in  theology  and  politics  rendered  it  early  impossible  to 
my  mind  to  acquiesce  without  inquiry  into  any  one  set  of  opinions  ;  the  choice 
was  not  left  me  to  do  so.  I  was  brought  up  in  a  strong  Tory  family  ;  the  first 
impressions  of  my  mind  shook  my  merely  received  impressions  to  pieces. 


3G0  LIFE  0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

and  at  Winchester  I  was  well  nigh  a  Jacobin.  At  sixteen,  when  I  went  up 
to  Oxford,  all  the  influences  of  the  place  which  I  loved  exceedingly,  your 
influence  above  all,  blew  my  Jacobinism  to  pieces,  and  made  me  again  a 
Tory.  I  used  to  speak  strong  Toryism  in  the  old  Attic  Society,  and  greedily 
did  I  read  Clarendon  with  all  the  sympathy  of  a  thorough  royalist.  Then 
came  the  peace,  when  Napoleon  was  put  down,  and  the  Tories  had  it  their 
own  way.  Nothing  shook  my  Toryism  more  than  the  strong  Tory  senti- 
ments that  I  used  to  hear  at ,  though  I  liked  the  family  exceedingly. 

But  I  heard  language  at  which  my  organ  of  justice  stood  aghast,  and  which, 
the  more  I  read  the  Bible,  seemed  to  me  more  and  more  unchristian.  I 
could  not.  but  go  on  inquiring,  and  I  do  feel  thankful  that  now  and  for  some 
years  past  I  have  been  living  not  in  skepticism,  but  in  a  very  sincere  faith, 
which  embraces  most  unreservedly  those  great  truths,  divine  and  human, 
which  the  highest  authorities,  divine  and  human,  seem  to  me  concurringly 
to  teach.  I  have  said  this  defensively  only,  for  I  am  sure  I  meant  to  convey 
no  insinuation  against  you  for  not  being  active  in  inquiring  after  truth.  I 
believe  I  never  think  of  you  but  with  entire  respect  and  admiration,  and  I 
never  talked  with  you  on  any  subject  without  gaining  something, — so  far 
am  I  from  venturing  to  think  that  I  am  entitled  to  think  myself  fonder  of 
truth  than  you  are.  I  am  glad  that  you  like  the  Sermons  on  Prophecy ;  I 
have  not  ventured  to  say  that  the  principle  is  of  universal  application,  but  it 
is  I  think  very  general ;  and,  in  both  the  cases  which  you  notice,  I  think  it 
holds.  Cyrus  is  said,  in  many  commentaries,  to  be  a  type  of  Christ,  by 
which  I  understand  that  the  language  applied  to  him  is  hyperbolical,  and 
suits  properly  only  Him  who  is  the  real  deliverer  of  Israel,  and  conqueror  of 
Babylon.  And  the  passage  about  the  "  Virgin  conceiving,"  &c,  has  a  man- 
ifest historical  meaning  as  applied  to  Isaiah's  wife ;  the  sign  being  one  of 
time,  that  within  the  youth  of  an  infant  presently  to  be  born,  Syria  and  Israel 
should  be  overthrown.  Emmanuel  might  improperly  be  the  name  of  a  com- 
mon child,  just  as  Jesus  and  Joshua  was,  but  both  apply  to  our  Lord,  and  to 
Him  only,  in  unexaggerated  strictness.  I  have  finished  Vol.  II.  of  the  His- 
tory, and  am  getting  on  with  the  new  edition  of  Thucydides.  The  school  is 
quite  full,  and  I  have  been  obliged  to  refuse  several  applications  on  that  ac- 
count. Our  attempt  to  secure  some  of  the  benefits  of  the  Eton  system  of  tui- 
tion will  come  into  practice  as  soon  as  the  half-year  begins.  Wordsworth  is 
and  has  been  remarkably  well  this  winter.  A  Miss  Gillies  came  down  here  in 
the  autumn  to  take  his  miniature,  in  which  I  think  she  has  succeeded  admi- 
rably. The  state  of  the  times  is  so  grievous,  that  it  really  pierces  through  all 
private  happiness,  and  haunts  me  daily  like  a  personal  calamity.  But  I  sup- 
pose that  as  to  causes  and  cure,  we  should  somewhat  differ,  though  in  much 
surely  we  should  agree.  I  wish  your  son  John  would  come  down  to  see 
me  some  day  from  Oxford.  I  should  much  wish  to  see  him,  and  to  observe 
how  he  is  getting  on. 


CCXXVI.      TO    SIR    CULLING  E.^SMITH,    BART. 
(With  reference  to  a  correspondence  in  the  Herts  Reformer.) 

Rugby,  February  14,  1840, 

I  have  two  principal  reasons  which  make  me  unwilling  to  affix 

my  name  to  my  letters  in  the  Herts  Reformer,— one,  as  I  mentioned  before, 
because  I  am  so  totally  unconnected  with  the  county, — which  to  my  feelings 
is  a  reason  of  great  weight : — my  other  reason  concerns  my  own  particu- 
lar profession,  not  so  much  as  a  clergyman  but  as  a  schoolmaster.  I  think 
if  I  wrote  by  name  in  a  newspaper  published  in  another  county,  I  should 
be  thouo-ht  to  be  stepping  out  of  the  line  of  my  own  duties,  and  courting 
notorietyas  a  political  writer.  And  this,  I  think,  I  am  bound  for  the  school's 
sake  to  avoid,  unless  there  is  a  clear  duty  on  the  other  side,  which  I  own  I 


LIFE  OP  DR.  ARNOLD.  3^ 

cannot  as  yet  perceive  to  exist.  I  think  that  your  own  case  as  a  gentleman 
of  independent  rank  and  fortune,  and  directly  connected  with  Hertfordshire, 
is  very  different  from  mine  :  for  no  one  could  charge  you  with  stepping  out 
of  your  own  profession,  or  with  interfering  without  any  title  to  do  so  in  the 
newspaper  of  another  county.  And  as  to  the  reasons  which  you  urge,  of 
setting  an  example  of  moderation  in  arguing  on  the  question  of  Church 
Establishments,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  mischief  of  our  newspapers  mainly 
arises  from  the  virulent  language  which  men  use  while  writing  anonymous- 
ly, and  that,  as  far  as  example  goes,  this  is  hetter  reproved  by  temperate 
writings  which  are  also  anonymous.  I  suppose  that  no  man,  writing  with 
his  name,  would  allow  himself  to  write  in  the  style  which  newspaper  writers 
often  use  ;  if  you  and  I  write  with  our  names,  it  would  be  no  wonder  at  all 
if  we  should  write  moderately  ;  but  if  Augur  and  F.  H.  observe  the  courte- 
sies and  the  charities  of  life,  which  their  incognito  might  enable  them  to  cast 
aside  if  they  would,  it  appears  to  me  to  be  likely,  as  far  as  their  letters  are 
read,  to  have  a  salutary  influence,  because  their  moderation  could  scarcely 
be  ascribed  to  any  thing  but  to  their  real  disapprobation  of  scurrility  and  un- 
fairness. After  all,  my  incognito  is  only  a  very  slight  veil,  and  I  am  more 
anxious  to  preserve  it  in  form  than  in  reality.  I  have  no  objection  to  be 
known  as  the  author  of  my  Letters,  but  I  would  neither  wish  to  attach  my 
name  to  them,  nor  to  be  mentioned  by  name  in  the  Reformer,  for  the  reasons 
which  I  have  given  above.  I  trust  that  you  will  not  take  it  amiss  that  I  still 
adhere  to  my  former  resolution.  May  I  add  at  the  same  time,  that  I  am 
much  obliged  to  you  for  the  kind  expressions  in  your  letter,  and  I  trust  that 
you  will  have  no  cause  to  recall  your  testimony  to  the  respectfulness  of  my 
language  in  any  of  my  future  Letters.  I  do  respect  sincerely  every  man 
who  writes  with  a  real  desire  to  promote  the  cause  of  Christ's  kingdom. 


CCXXVII.      *  TO    H.    FOX,    ESQ.. 

Rugby,  February  21, 1840. 

I  am  well  persuaded  that  to  a  good  man  with  regard  to  his  choice  of  one 
amidst  several  lines  of  duty,  "  Sua  cuique  Deus  fit  dira  cupido."  It  is  a 
part  of  God's  Providence  that  some  men  are  made  to  see  strongly  the  claims 
of  one  calling,  others  those  of  another.  If,  therefore,  a  man  tells  me  that  he 
feels  bound  to  go  out  as  a  Missionary  to  India,  I  feel  that  I  onght  not  to 
grudge  to  India  what  God  seems  to  will  for  her.  A  very  old  friend  of  mine, 
who  has  been  for  some  years  superintendent  of  the  missions  at  Madras,  is 
coming  home  this  spring  for  his  health,  hoping  to  go  out  again  in  the  au- 
tumn ;  if  your  purpose  is  fixed,  I  should  like  you  to  see  him,  for  he  would 
counsel  you  well  as  to  the  manner  of  carrying  it  into  effect ;  but  on  the 
previous  question  itself, — to  go  to  India  or  not, — his  judgment  must  be  bias- 
ed, for  he  himself  left  a  very  large  field  of  ministerial  duty  here,  to  go 
out  to  India.  But  whether  you  go  to  India  or  to  any  other  foreign  country, 
the  first  and  great  point,  I  think,  is  to  turn  your  thoughts  to  the  edification 
of  the  Church  already  in  existence, — that  is,  the  English  or  Christian  soci- 
eties as  distinct  from  the  Hindoos.  Unless  the  English  and  the  half-caste 
people  can  be  brought  into  a  good  state,  how  can  you  get  on  with  the 
Hindoos  1  Again,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  greater  good  might  be  done 
by  joining  a  young  English  settlement,  than  by  missionary  work  amongst 
the  heathen.  Every  good  man  going  to  New  Zealand,  or  to  Van  Diemen's 
Land,  not  for  the  sake  of  making  money,  is  an  invaluable  element  in  those 
societies ;  and  remember  that  they,  after  all,  must  be,  by  and  by,  the  great 
missionaries  to  the  heathen  world,  either  for  God  or  for  the  Devil. 

But  still,  do  not  lightly  think  that  any  claims  can  be  greater  upon  you 
than  those  of  this  Church  and  people  of  England.     It  is  not  surely  to  the 

24 


362 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


purpose  to  say  that  there  are  ten  thousand  clergymen  here,  and  very  few  in 
India.  Do  these  ten  thousand  clergymen  all,  or  even  the  greater  part  of 
them,  appreciate  what  they  have  to  do  ?  Is  not  the  mass  of  evil  here, 
greater  a  thousand  times  in  its  injurious  effects  on  the  world  at  large,  than 
all  the  idolatry  of  India  ?  and  is  it  less  dangerous  to  the  souls  of  those  con- 
cerned in  it  1  Look  at  the  state  of  your  own  county  ;'  and  does  not  that 
cry  out  as  loud  as  India,  notwithstanding  its  bishop  and  its  golden  stalls  ? 
And  remember— that  the  Apostles  did  indeed,  or  rather  some  of  them  did, 
spread  the  Gospel  over  many  provinces  of  the  Roman  Empire  ;— but  it  was 
necessary  that  it  should  have  a  wide  diffusion  once  ;  not  that  this  diffusion 
was  to  go  on  universally  and  always,  although  the  old  Churches  might  be 
grievously  wanting  the  aid  of  those  who  were  plunging  into  heathen  and 
barbarian  countries  to  make  nominal  converts. 

But  beyond  this  no  man  can  advise  you ;  you  may  do  good  by  God's 
blessino-  any  where, — you  will,  I  doubt  not,  serve  him  every  where, — but 
what  you  feel  to  be  your  particular  call,  you  must  alone  determine.  But  do 
not  decide  hastily,  for  it  is  an  important  question,  and  if  you  go  and  then 
regret  it,  time  and  opportunities  will  be  lost.  You  know  that  F.  Newman 
went  out  as  a  missionary  to  Persia,  and  returned,  finding  that  he  had  judged 
his  calling  wrongly.  I  shall,- of  course,  be  at  all  times  glad  to  advise  you  to 
the  best  of  my  power,  either  by  letter  or  personally. 


CCXXVIII.       TO    THE    SAME. 

Rugby,  March  33,  1840. 

I  would  not  willingly  have  left  your  last  letter  so  long  unanswered,  but 
my  time  has  been  even  more  than  usually  engaged.  I  am  sure  that  if  your 
bent  seems  to  be  to  the  work  of  a  Missionary  in  India,  I  would  not  be  the 
man  to  dissuade  you  from  it.  It  is  a  Christian  and  a  most  important  calling, 
and  though  to  my  own  mind,  certainly,  there  are  others  even  more  import- 
ant,'yet  I  iully  believe  that  it  is  God's  will  that,  by  our  different  impulses, 
all  the  several  parts  of  His  vineyard  should  be  supplied  with  labourers. 
Only,  if  you  do  go  to  India,  still  remember  that  the  great  work  to  be  done 
is  to  organize  and  purify  Christian  Churches  of  whites  and  half-castes. 
This,  I  believe,  Tucker  would  tell  you,  and  all  other  men  whose  judgments 
can  be  relied  on.  These  must  be  the  nucleus  to  which  individuals  from  the 
natives  will  continually  join  more  and  more,  as  these  become  more  numerous 
and  more  respectable.  Otherwise  the  caste  system  is  an  insuperable  diffi- 
culty :  you  call  on  a  man  to  leave  all  his  old  connections,  and  to  become  in- 
famous in  their  eyes,  and  yet  have  no  living  Church  to  offer  him,  where, 
"  he  shall  receive  fathers  and  mothers,  and  brethren  and  sisters,  &c.,  a 
hundredfold."  Individual  preaching  amongst  the  Hindoos,  without  having 
a  Church  .to  which  to  invite  them,  seems  to  me  the  wildest  of  follies.  Re- 
member how  in  every  place,  Paul  made  the  tvotfiiiq  the  foundation  of  his 
Church,  and  then  the  idolatrous  heathens  gathered  round  these  in  more  or 
less  numbers. 

Again,  if  you  go  out  to  India,  you  must  be  clear  as  to  questions  of 
Church  government  and  the  so-called  Apostolical  Succession,  which  there 
become  directly  practical  questions.  Are  you  to  look  upon  Lutheran  ordina- 
tions, and  Baptists'  or  Independent  baptisms,  as  valid  or  invalid  ?  Are  the 
members  of  non-episcopal  Churches  your  brethren  or  not  ?  In  matters  of 
doctrine,  an  opinion,  however  unimportant,  is  either  true  or  false ;  and  if 
false,  he  who  holds  it  is  in  error,  although  the  error  may  be  so  practically 
indifferent  as  to  be  of  no  account  in  our  estimate  of  the  men.  But  in  mat- 
ters of  government,  I  hold  that  there  is  actually  no  right,  and  no  wrong. 

1    Durham. 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  353 

Viewed  in  the  large,  as  they  are  seen  in  India,  and  when  ahstracted  from 
the  questions  of  particular  countries,  I  hold  that  one  form  of  Church  gov- 
ernment is  exactly  as  much  according  to  Christ's  will  as  another ;  nay,  I 
consider  such  questions  as  so  indifferent,  that,  if  I  thought  the  government 
of  my  neighbour's  Church  better  than  my  own,  I  yet  would  not,  unless  the 
case  were  very  strong,  leave  my  Church  for  his,  because  habits,  associations, 
and  all  tbose  minor  ties  which  ought  to  burst  asunder  before  a  great  call, 
are  yet  of  more  force,  I  think,  than  a  difference  between  Episcopacy  and 
Presbytery,  unless  one  be   very  good  of  its  kind,  and  the  other  very  bad. 

However,  whether  you  think  with  me  or  not,  the  question  at 

any  rate  is  one  of  importance  to  a  man  going  as  missionary  to  India.  Let 
me  hear  from  you  again  when  you  can. 


CCXXIX.       TO    CHEVALIER    BUNSEN. 

(Then  Prussian  Minister  at  Berne.) 

Rugby,  February  25,  1840. 

It  rejoices  me  indeed  to  resume  my  communication  with  you,  and  it  is  a 
comfort  to  me  to  think  that  you  are  at  least  on  our  side  of  the  Alps,  and  on  a 
river  which  runs  into  our  own  side,  in  the  very  face  of  Father  Thames. 
May  God's  blessing  be  with  you  and  yours  in  your  new  home,  and  prosper 
all  your  works  public  and  private,  and  give  you  health  and  strength  to 
execute  them,  and  to  see  their  fruits  beginning  to  show  themselves.  I  am 
going  on  in  my  accustomed  way,  in  this  twelfth  year  of  my  life  at  Rugby, 
with  all  about  me,  thank  God,  in  good  health. 

I  have  determined,  after  much  consideration,  to  follow 

the  common  chronology  for  convenience.  To  alter  it  now  seems  as  hopeless 
as  Hare's  attempt  to  amend  our  English  spelling ;  and  besides  I  cannot  sat- 
isfy myself  that  any  sure  system  of  chronology  is  attainable,  so  that  it  does 
not  seem  worth  while  to  put  all  one's  recollections  in  confusion  for  the  sake 
of  a  result  which  after  all  is  itself  uncertain.  I  have  written  the  naval  part 
of  the  first  Punic  War  with  something  of  an  Englishman's  feeling,  which  I 
think  will  make  you  find  that  part  interesting.  I  have  tried  also  to  make  out 
a  sort  of  Domesday  Book  of  Italy  after  the  Roman  Conquest,  to  show  as 
far  as  possible  the  various  tenures  by  which  the  land  was  held ' 

I  am  seriously  thinking  of  going  southwards.  I  hesi- 
tate between  two  plans,  Marseilles  and  Naples,  or  Trieste  and  Corfu.  Corfu 
— Corcyra — would  be  genuine  Greece  in  point  of  climate  and  scenery,  and 
if  one  could  get  a  sight  of  the  country  about  Durazzo,  it  would  greatly  help 
the  campaign  of  Dyrrhachium.  Then,  in  going  to  Trieste,  we  should  see 
Ulm,  Augsburg,  Munich  and  Salzburg,  and' might  take  Regensburg  and 
Nurnberg  on  our  return.  Naples  in  itself  would  be  to  me  less  interesting 
than  Corfu,  but  if  we  could  penetrate  into  the  interior,  nothing  would  delio-ht 
me  more 

Niebuhr's  third  volume  is  indeed  delightful ;  but  it  grieved  me  to  find 
those  frequent  expressions,  in  his  later  letters,  of  his  declining  regard  for 
England.     I  grieve  at  it,  but  I  do  not  wonder.     Most  gladly  do  I  join  in 

your  proposal  that  we  should  write   monthly Will  you 

send  me  your  proper  address  in  German,  for  I  do  not  like  directious  to  you 
in  French. 

«  A  passage  has  been  here  omitted  relating  to  the  question  between  the  Judges  and 
the  House  of  Commons',  on  Breach  of  Privilege,  in  consequence  of  the  statement  of  his 
opinion  being  mixed  up  with  a  statement  of  facts  which  he  had  intended  eventually  to 
reconsider.  But  it  was  a  subject  on  which,  at  the  time,  he  felt  very  strongly  in  favour  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  in  the  belief  that  "  the  leading  statesmen  of  all  parties  took  one 
side,  and  the  lawyers  and  the  ultra-Tories  the  other  side,"  and  that  "  Peel's  conduct  on 
this  occasion  does  him  more  credit  than  any  part  of  his  political  life." 


364  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 


CCXXX.      TO    W.    W.    HULL,    E9a. 

Rugby,  March  13,  1840. 

I  do  not  often  venture  to  talk  to  you  about  public  affairs, 

but  surely  you  will  agree  with  me  in  deprecating  this  war  with  China,  which 
really  seems  to  me  so  wicked  as  to  be  a  national  sin  of  the  greatest  possible 
magnitude,  and  it  distresses  me  very  deeply.  Cannot  any  thing  be  done  by 
petition  or  otherwise  to  awaken  men's  minds  to  the  dreadful  guilt  we  are 
incurring  ?  I  really  do  not  remember,  in  any  history,  of  a  war  undertaken 
with  such  combined  injustice  and  baseness.  Ordinary  wars  of  conquest  are 
to  me  far  less  wicked,  than  to  go  to  war  in  order  to  maintain  smuggling, 
and  that  smuggling  consisting  in  the  introduction  of  a  demoralizing  drug, 
which  the  Government  of  China  wishes  to  keep  out,  and  which  we,  for  the 
lucre  of  gain,  want  to  introduce  by  force  ;  and  in  this  quarrel  are  going  to 
burn  and  slay  in  the  pride  of  our  supposed  superiority. 


CCXXXI.      TO    W.    LEAPER    NEWTON,    ESd- 

Rugby,  February  19,  1840. 

It  is  with  the  most  sincere  regret  that  I  feel  myself  unable  to  give  an 
unqualified  support  to  the  resolution  which  you  propose  to  bring  forward  at 
the  next  general  meeting  of  the  proprietors  of  the  North  Midland  Railway 
Company. 

Of  course,  if  I  held  the  Jewish  law  of  the  Sabbath  to  be  binding  upon 
us,  the  question  would  not  be  one  of  degree,  but  I  should  wish  to  stop  all 
travelling  on  Sundays  as  in  itself  unlawful.  But  holding  that  the  Christian 
Lord's  Day  is  a  very  different  thing  from  the  Sabbath,  and  to  be  observed 
in  a  different  manner,  the  q\iestion  of  Sunday  travelling  is,  in  my  mind, 
quite  one  of  degree  ;  and  whilst  I  entirely  think  that  the  trains  which  travel 
on  that  day  should  be  very  much  fewer  on  every  account,  yet  I  could  not 
consent  to  suspend  all  travelling  on  a  great  line  of  communication  for  twen- 
ty-four hours,  especially'  as  the  creation  of  railways  necessarily  puts  an  end 
to  other  conveyances  in  the  same  direction ;  and  if  the  trains  do  not  travel, 
a  poor  man,  who  could  not  post,  might  find  it  impossible  to  get  on  at  all. 
But  I  would  cheerfully  support  you  in  voting  that  only  a  single  train 
each  way  should  travel  on  the  Sunday,  which  would  surely  enable  the 
clerks,  porters,  &c,  at  every  station,  to  have  the  greatest  part  of  every 
Sunday  at  their  own  disposal.  Nay,  I  would  gladly  subscribe  individually 
to  a  fund  for  obtaining  additional  belp  on  the  Sunday,  so  that  the  work 
might  fall  still  lighter  on  each  individual  employed. 


CCXXXII.      TO    THE    S*ME. 

Rugby,  February  22,  1840. 

It  would  be  absolutely  wrong,  I  think,  if  I  were  not  to  answer  your  ques- 
tion to  the  best  of  my  power ;  yet  it  is  so  very  painful  to  seem  to  be  arguing 
in  any  way  against  the  observance  of  the  Sunday,  that  I  would  far  rather 
agree  with  you  than  differ  from  you.  I  believe  that  it  is  generally  agreed 
amongst  Christians  that  the  Jewish  Law,  so  far  as  it  was  Jewish  and  not 
moral,  is  at  an  end  ;  and  it  is  assuming  the  whole  point  at  issue  to  assume 
that  the  Ten  Commandments  are  all  moral.  If  that  were  so,  it  seems  tome 
quite  certain  that  the  Sabbath  would  have  been  kept  on  its  own  proper  day  ; 
for,  if  the  Commandments  were  still  binding,  I  do  not  see  where  would  be 
the  power  to  make  any  alteration  in  its  enactments.     But  it  is  also  true,  no 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  355 

doubt,  that  the  Lord's  Day  was  kept  from  time  immemorial  in  the  Church 
as  a  day  of  festival ;  and  connected  with  the  notion  of  festival,  the  absti- 
nence from  worldly  business  naturally  followed.  A  weekly  religious  festi- 
val, in  which  worldly  business  was  suspended,  bore  such  a  resemblance  to 
the  Sabbath,  that  the  analogy  of  the  Jewish  Law  was  often  urged  as  a 
reason  for  its  observance  ;  but,  as  it  was  not  considered  to  be  the  Sabbath, 
but  only  a  day  in  some  respects  like  it,  so  the  manner  of  its  observance 
varied  from  time  to  time,  and  was  made  more  or  less  strict  on  grounds  of 
religious  expediency,  without  reference  in  either  case  to  the  authority  of  the 
fourth  commandment.  An  ordinance  of  Constantine  prohibits  other  work, 
but  leaves  agricultural  labour  free.  An  ordinance  of  Leo  I.  (Emperor  of 
Constantinople)  forbids  agricultural  labour  also.  On  the  other  hand,  our 
own  Reformers  (see  Cranmer's  Visitation  Articles)  required  the  Clergy  to 
teach  the  people  that  they  would  grievously  offend  God  if  they  abstained 
from  working  on  Sundays  in  harvest  time  ;  and  the  Statute  of  Edward  VI., 
5th  and  6th  chap.  iii.  (vol.  iv.  part  i.  p.  132  of  the  Parliamentary  edition  of 
the  Statutes,  1819,)  expressly  allows  all  persons  to  work,  ride  or  follow  their 
calling,"  whatever  it  may  be,  in  the  case  of  need.  And  the  preamble  of  this 
statute,  which  was  undoubtedly  drawn  up  with  the  full  concurrence  of  the 
principal  Reformers,  if  not  actually  written  by  them,  declares  in  the  most 
express  terms  that  the  observance  of  all  religious  festivals  is  left  in  the  dis- 
cretion of  the  Church,  and  therefore  it  proceeds  to  order  that  all  Sundays, 
with  many  other  days  named,  should  be  kept  holy.  And  the  clear  language 
of  this  Statute, — together  with  the  total  omission  of  the  duty  of  keeping  the 
Sabbath  in  the  Catechism,  although  it  professes  to  collect  our  duty  towards 
God  from  the  four  first  commandments, — proves  to  my  mind  that  in  using 
the  fourth  commandment  in  the  Church  Service,  the  Reformers  meant  it  to 
be  understood  as  enforcing  to  us  simply  the  duty  of  worshipping  God,  and 
devoting  some  portion  of  time  to  His  honour,  the  particular  portion  so  de- 
voted, and  the  manner  of  observing  it,  being  points  to  be  fixed  by  the 
Church.  It  is  on  these  grounds  that  I  should  prefer  greatly  diminishing 
public  travelling  on  the  Sunday  to  stopping  it  altogether  ;  as  this  seems  to 
me  to  correspond  better  with  the  Christian  observance  of  the  Lord's  Day, 
which,  while  most  properly  making  rest  from  ordinary  occupations  the  gen- 
eral rule,  yet  does  not  regard  it  as  a  thing  of  absolute  necessity,  but  to  be 
waived  on  weighty  grounds.  And  surely  many  very  weighty  reasons  for 
occasionally  moving  from  place  to  place  on  a  Sunday  are  occurring  con- 
stantly. But  if  the  only  alternative  be  between  stopping  the  trains  on  our 
railway  altogether,  o#  having  them  go  frequently,  as  on  other  days,  I  cannot 
hesitate  for  an  instant  which  side  to  take,  and  I  will  send  you  my  proxy 
without  a  moment's  hesitation.  You  will  perhaps  have  the  goodness  to  let 
me  hear  from  you  again. 


CCXXXIII.      TO    THE    SAME. 

Rugby,  April  1,  1840. 

I  should  have  answered  your  last  letter  earlier,  had  I  not  been  so  much 
engaged  that  I  assure  you  I  do  not  find  it  easy  to  find  time  for  any  thing 
beyond  the  necessary  routine  of  my  employments.  I  agree  with  you  that  it 
is  not  necessary  with  respect  to  the  practical  point  to  discuss  the  authority 
of  the  command  to  keep  the  Sunday.  In  fact,  believing  it  to  be  an  ordinance 
of  the  Church  at  any  rate,  I  hold  its  practical  obligation  just  as  much  as  if  I 
considered  it  to  be  derivable  from  the  fourth  commandment ;  but  the  main 
question  is,  whether  that  rest,  on  which  the  commandment  lays  such  exclu- 
sive stress,  is  really  the  essence  of  the  Christian  Sunday.  That  it  should 
be  a  day  of  greater  leisure  than  other  days,  and  of  the  suspension,  so  far  as 
may  be,  of  the  common  business  of  life,  I  quite  allow;  but  then  I  believe 
that  I  should  have  much  greater  indulgence  for  recreation  on  a  Sunday 


366  LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

than  you  might  have ;  and,  if  the  railway  enables  the  people  in  the  great 
towns  to  get  out  into  the  country  on  the  Sunday,  I  should  think  it  a  very 
great  good.  I  confess  that  I  would  rather  have  one  train  going  on  a  Sun- 
day 'than  none  at  all ;  and  I  cannot  conceive  that  this  would  seriously 
interfere  with  any  of  the  company's  servants ;  it  would  not  be  as  much 
work  as  all  domestic  servants  have  every  Sunday  in  almost  every  house  in 
the  country.  At  the  same  time,  I  should  be  most  anxious  to  mark  the  day 
decidedly  from  other  days,  and  I  think  that  one  train  up  and  down  would 
abundantly  answer  all  good  purposes,  and  that  more  would  be  objectiona- 
ble. I  was  much  obliged  to  you  for  sending  me  an  account  of  the  discussion 
on  the  subject,  and  if  it  comes  on  again,  I  should  really  wish  to  express  my 
opinion,  if  I  could,  by  voting  against  having  more  than  one  train.  I  am 
really  sorry  that  I  cannot  go  along  with  you  more  completely.  At  any 
rate,  I  cannot  but  rejoice  in  the  correspondence  with  you  to  which  this 
question  has  given  occasion.  Differences  of  opinion  give  me  but  little  con- 
cern ;  but  it  is  a  real  pleasure  to  be  brought  into  communication  with  any 
man  who  is  in  earnest,  and  who  really  looks  to  God's  will  as  his  standard  of 
right  and  wrong,  and  judges  of  actions,  according  to  their  greater  or  less 
conformity.1 


CCXXXIV.      *  TO    HOWELL    LLOYD,    ESQ.. 

Rugby,  February  25,  1840. 

With  regard  to  Welsh,  I  am  anxious  that  people  should  notice  any  words 
which  may  exist  in  the  spoken  language  of  old  people,  or  in  remote  parts  of 
the  country,  which  are  not  acknowledged  in  the  written  language.  Welsh 
must  have  its  dialects,  I  suppose,  like  other  languages,  and  these  dialects 
often  preserve  words  and  forms  of  extreme  antiquity,  which  have  long  since 
perished  out  of  the  written  language,  or  rather  were  never  introduced  into 
it.  You  know  Dr.  Prichard's  book,  I  take  it  for  granted,  the  only  sensible 
book  on  the  subject  which  I  ever  saw  written  in  English.  This  and  Bopp's 
Vergleichende  Grammatik,  should  be  constantly  used,  I  think,  to  enable  a 
man  to  understand  the  real  connexion  of  languages,  and  to  escape  the  ex- 
travagances into  which  our  so-called  Celtic  scholars  have  generally  fallen. 


TO    W.    W.    HULL,    ESQ. 


(Relating  to  a  Petition  on  Subscription  ) 

April,  1840. 


My  wish  about  the  bill  is  this,  if  it  could  be  done;  that 

the  Athanasian  creed  should  be  rejected  altogether, — that  the  promise  to  use 
the  Liturgy  should  be  the  peculiar  subscription  of  the  clergy, — that  the  Arti- 
cles should  stand  as  articles  of  peace,  in  the  main  draft  of  each  Article,  for 
clergy  and  laity  alike  ; — and  that  for  Church  membership  there  should  be 
no  other  test  than  that  required  in  Baptism.  I  think  you  may  require  fuller 
knowledge  of  the  clergy  than  of  the  laity;  and,  as  they  have  a  certain  pub- 
lic service  in  the  Church  to  perform,  you  may  require  of  them  a  promise 
that  they  will  perform  it  according  to  the  law  of  our  Church ;  but  as  to  the 
adhesion  of  the  inner  man  to  any  set  of  religious  truths, — this,  it  seems  to 
me,  belongs  to  us  as  Christians,  and  is  in  fact  a  part  of  the  notion  of  Chris- 
tian faith,  which  faith  is  to  be  required  of  all  the  Church  alike,  so  far  as  it 
can  be  or  ought  to  be  required  of  any  one.  And  therefore,  so  long  as  the 
clergy  subscribe  to  the  Articles,  so  long  do  I  hope  that  they  will  be  required 
at  taking  degrees  in  Oxford  or  Cambridge,  of  all  who  are  members  of  the 

1  See  p.  218,  for  liis  further  view  of  the  fourth  commandment. 


LIFE    OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


367 


Church.     If  they  are  a  burden,  all  ought  to  bear  it  alike  ;  if  they  are  a  fair 
test  of  church  membership,  they  should  extend  to  all  alike. 


CCXXXVI.       TO    THE    SAME. 

April,  1840. 

I  would  not  willingly  petition  about  the  Canons,  except 

to  procure  their  utter  abolition  ;  I  have  an  intense  dislike  of  clerical  legisla- 
tion, most  of  all  of  such  a  clergy  as  was  dominant  in  James  the  First's  reign. 
And,  if  the  Canons  are  touched  ever  so  lightly,  what  is  left  untouched 
would  acquire  additional  force,  an  evil  greater  to  my  mind  than  leaving 
them  altogether  alone.  I  think  that  I  should  myself  prefer  petitioning  for  a 
relaxation  of  the  terms  of  Subscription,  and  especially  for  the  total  repeal 
of  the  36th  Canon.  Historically,  our  Prayer  Book  exhibits  the  opinions  of 
two  very  different  parties,  King  Edward's  Reformers,  and  the  High  Church- 
men of  James  the  First's  time  and  of  1661.  There  is  a  necessity,  therefore, 
in  fact,  for  a  comprehensive  Subscription,  unless  the  followers  of  one  of 
these  parties  are  to  be  driven  out  of  the  Church  ;  for  no  man,  who  heartily 
likes  the  one,  can  approve  entirely  of  what  has  been  done  by  the  other. 
And  I  would  petition  specifically,  I  think,  but  I  speak  with  submission,  for 
the  direct  cancelling  of  the  damnatory  clauses  of  the  anonymous  Creed,  vul- 
garly called  Athanasius' — (would  it  not  be  well  in  your  petition  to  alter  the 
expression  "  Athanasius'  Creed  ?")  leaving  the  creed  itself  untouched. 


CCXXXVII.       TO    THE    SAME. 

May  16,  1840. 

I  have  sent  a  copy  of  this  petition1  to  .Whately ;  if  he  approves  of  it,  I 
will  ask  you  to  get  it  engrossed,  and  put  into  the  proper  forms.  My  feeling 
is  this  ;  as  I  believe  that  the  tide  of  all  reform  is  at  present  on  the  ebb,  I 
should  not  myself  have  come  forward  at  this  moment  with  any  petition,  but, 
as  you  have  resolved  to  petition,  I  cannot  but  sign  it;  and  then,  signing 
your  petition,  I  wish  also  to  put  on  record  my  sentiments  as  to  what  seems 

to  me  to  be  a  deeper  evil  than  any  thing  in  the  Liturgy  or  Articles 

I  wish  that  the  signatures  may  be  numerous,  and  may  include  many  Lay- 
men ;  it  is  itself  a  sign  of  life  in  the  Church  that  Laymen  should  feel  that  the 
Articles  and  Liturgy  belong  to  them  as  well  as  to  the  Clergy. 


CCXXXVIII.      *  TO    J.    P.    GELL,    ESQ.. 

April  12,  1840. 

I  do  not  like  to  let  my  wife's  letter  go  without  a  word  from  me,  if  it  were 
only  to  express  to  you  my  earnest  interest  about  the  beginnings  of  your 
great  work,  which  I  imagine  is  now  near  at  hand.  It  is  very  idle  for  me  to 
speculate  about  what  is  going  on  in  states  of  society,  of  which  I  know  so 
little ;  yet  my  knowledge  of  the  Jacobinism  of  people  here  at  home,  makes 
me  full  sure  that  there  must  be  even  more  of  it  out  with  you,  and  it  fills  me 
with  grief  when  I  think  of  societyhaving  such  an  element  ovvrgotpov  l£ 
«?/>?? I  often  think  that  nothing  could  so  rouse  a  boy's  energies  as 

1  i.e.  for  the  restoration  of  Deacons.  His  wish  for  the  revival  of  any  distinct  eccle- 
siastical government  of  the  clergy  at  this  time,  was  checked  by  the  fear  of  its  counte- 
nancing what  he  held  to  be  erroneous  views  concerning  the  religious  powers  and  duties 
of  the  State. 


368  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

sending  him  out  to  you,  where  he  must  work  or  starve.  There  is  no  earthly 
thing  more  mean  and  despicable  in  my  mind  than  an  English  gentleman 
destitute  of  all  sense  of  his  responsibilities  and  opportunities,  and  only  revel- 
ling in  the  luxuries  of  our  high  civilization,  and  thinking  himself  a  great  per- 
son. Burbidge  is  here  again,  as  fond  of  Rugby  as  ever,  but  I  hope  that  he 
will  now  complete  his  terms  at  Cambridge.  I  hope  that  you  will  journalize 
largely.  Every  tree,  plant,  stone,  and  living  thing  is  strange  to.  us  in  Eu- 
rope, and  capable  of  affording  an  interest.  Will  you  describe  the  general 
aspect  of  the  country  round  Hobart's  Town  ?  To  this  day  I  never  could 
meet  with  a  description  of  the  common  face  of  the  country  about  New  York, 
or  Boston  or  Philadelphia,  and  therefore  I  have  no  distinct  ideas  of  it.  Is 
your  country  plain  or  undulating,  your  valleys  deep  or  shallow. — curving,  or 
with  steep  sides  and  flat  bottoms  1  Are  your  fields  large  or  small,  parted  by 
hedo-es  or  stone  walls,  with  single  trees  about  them,  or  patches  of  wood  here 
and&there  1  Are  there  many  scattered  houses  and  what  are  they  built  of, — 
brick  wood,  or  stone  1  And  what  are  the  hills  and  streams  like, — ridges,  or 
with  waving  summits, — with  plain  sides,  or  indented  with  combes ; — full  of 
springs,  or  dry  ; — and  what  is  their  geology  ?  I  can  better  fancy  the  actors 
when°I  have  got  a  lively  notion  of  the  scene  on  which  they  are  acting. 
Pray  give  my  kindest  remembrances  to  Sir  John  and  Lady  Franklin  ;  and 
by  all  means,  if  possible,  stick  to  your  idea  of  naming  your  place  Christ's 
College.  Such  a  name  seems  of  itself  to  hallow  Van  Diemen's  Land,  and 
the  Spaniards  did  so  wisely  in  transplanting  their  religious  names  with  them 
to  the  new  world.  We  unhappily  "  in  omnia  alia  abiimus."  May  God  bless 
you  and  your  work. 


CCXXXIX.      f  TO    REV.    W.    K.    HAMILTON.  . 

Rugby,  May  4,  1640. 

I  thank  you  very  much  for  the  book  which  you  were  so  kind  as  to  send 

me I  was  delighted  to  see  translations  of  some  of  my  favourite 

hymns  in  Bunsen's  collection,  and  shall  try  to  get  them  sometimes  sung  in 
our  Chapel.  I  will  try  also  again  to  understand  the  very  old  music  which 
you  speak  of,  and  which  Lepsius,  at  Bunsen's  request,  once  played  to  me. 
It  is  a  proof  of  Bunsen's  real  regard  for  me,  that  he  still  holds  intercourse 
with  me,  even  after  I  proved  utterly  insensible  to  what  he  admires  and  loves 
so  much.  But  seriously,  those  who  are  musical  can  scarcely  understand 
what  it  is  to  want  that  sense  wholly ;  I  cannot  perceive,  (y.araXafipdriiv,)  what 
to  others  is  a  keen  source  of  pleasure  ;  there  is  no  link  by  which  my  mind 
can  attach  it  to  itself;  and,  much  as  I  regret  this  defect,  I  can  no  more  rem- 
edy it,  than  I  could  make  my  mind  mathematical,  or  than  some  other  men 
could  enter  into  the  deep  delight  with  which  I  look  at  wood  anemones  or 
wood  sorrel.  I  trust  that  you  will  be  able  to  come  and  see  us,  though  I 
know  the  claims  upon  your  time  too  well  to  complain  of  your  absence.  You 
will  be  glad  to  hear  that  I  wrote  to  Keble  lately,  and  had  a  very  kind  an- 
swer from  him  ;  I  yearn  sadly  after  peace  and  harmony  with  those  whom  I 
have  long  known,  and  I  will  not  quarrel  with  them  if  I  can  help  it ;  though, 
alas  in  some  of  our  tastes  there  is  the  music  which  to  them  is  heavenly,  and 
which  to  me  says  nothing  ;  and  there  are  the  wild  flowers  which  to  me  are 

so  full  of  beauty,  and  which  others  tread  upon  with  indifference 

If  you  come  to  us  in  about  a  month's  time,  I  hope  that  I  shall  be  able  to 
show  you  four  out  of  the  seven  windows  in  our  chapel  supplied  with  really 
good  painted  glass,  which  makes  us  not  despair  of  getting  the  other  three 
done  in  good  time.  I  should  always  wish  to  be  very  kindly  remembered  to 
your  father  and  mother,  whom  I  now  so  rarely  see. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  359 


CCXL.      TO    REV.    HERBERT     HILL. 

Rugby,  May  8,  1840. 

I  was  very  glad  indeed  to  find  that were  to  go  to  you ;  but,  before 

I  heard  it,  I  was  going  to  send  you  an  exhortation,  which,  although  you 
may  think  it  needless,  I  will  not  even  now  forbear.  It  is,  that  you  should, 
without  fail,  instruct  your  pupils  in  the  six  books  of  Euclid  at  least.  I  am, 
as  you  well  know,  no  mathematician,  and  therefore  my  judgment  in  this 
matter  is  worth  so  much  the  more,  because  what  I  can  do  in  mathematics, 
any  body  can  do ;  and  as  I  can  teach  the  first  six  books  of  Euclid,  so  I  am 
sure  can  you.  Then  it  is  a  grievous  pity  that  at  your  age,  and  with  no 
greater  amount  of  work  than  you  now  have,  you  should  make  up  your  mind 
to  be  shut  out  from  one  great  department,  I  might  almost  say,  from  many 
great  departments  of  human  knowledge.  Even  now  I  would  not  allow  my- 
self to  say  that  I  should  never  go  on  in  mathematics,  unlikely  as  it  is  at  my 
age ;  yet  I  always  think  that  if  I  were  to  go  on  a  long  voyage,  or  were  in 
any  way  hindered  from  using  many  books,  I  should  turn  very  eagerly  to 
geometry,  and  other  such  studies.  But  further,  I  do  really  think  that  with 
boys  and  young  men,  it  is  not  right  to  leave  them  in  ignorance  of  the  begin- 
nings of  physical  science.  It  is  so  hard  to  begin  any  thing  in  after  life,  and 
so  comparatively  easy  to  continue  what  has  been  begun,  that  I  think  we  are 
bound  to  break  ground,  as  it  were,  into  several  of  the  mines  of  knowledge 
with  our  pupils,  that  the  first  difficulties  may  be  overcome  by  them  while 
there  is  yet  a  power  from  without  to  aid  their  own  faltering  resolution,  and 
that  so  they  may  be  enabled,  if  they  will,  to  go  on  with  the  study  hereafter. 
I  do  not  think  that  you  do  a  pupil  full  justice,  if  you  so  entirely  despise  Plato's 
authority,  as  to  count  geometry  in  education  to  be  absolutely  good  for  nothing. 
I  am  sure  that  you  will  forgive  me  for  urging  this,  for  I  think  that  it  concerns 
you  much,  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  you  ought  not  to  run  the  risk  of  losing  a 
pupil  because  you  will  not  master  the  six  books  of  Euclid,  which,  after  all, 
are  not  to  be  despised  for  one's  very  own  solace  and  delight ;  for  I  do  not  know 
that  Pythagoras  did  any  thing  strange,  if  he  sacrificed  a  hecatomb  when  he 
discovered  that  marvellous  relation  between  the  squares  containing  and  sub- 
tending a  right  angle,  which  the  47th  proposition  of  the  first  book  demon- 
strates  More  than  500  pages  of  Vol.  II.  are  printed,  but 

there  will  be,  I  fear  100  more.  I  dread  the  adage  about  [<fya  fiipliov.  We 
have  real  spring  for  the  first  time  for  seven  years  ;  delicious  rains  and  genial 
sunshines,  so  that  the  face  of  the  earth  is  bursting  visibly  into  beauty. .  I 
think  nothing  yet  of  summer  plans,  for  if  I  go  abroad,  and  give  up  Fox  How, 
it  must  be  done  tete  baissee,  it  will  not  bear  looking  at  beforehand. 


CCXLI.      TO    REV.    DR    HAWKINS. 

Rugby,  May  8,  1840. 

I  believe  that  I  look  to  Church  Extension  as  the  only 

possible  means  under  God's  blessing  of  bringing  society  to  a  better  state, 
but  I  cannot  press  Church  Extension,  in  the  common  sense  of  the  term,  as 
a  national  measure,  because  I  think  that  the  mass  of  Dissent  renders  it,  if 
objected  to  by  the  Dissenters,  actually  unjust.  The  evil  of  Dissent  and  its 
causes  are  so  entirely  at  the  bottom-  of  all  our  difficulties  in  this  way,  that 
we  never  can  get  on  consistently  or  smoothly  till  something  be  done  to  try  to 
remedy  this ;  and  if  this  is  incurable,  then  the  nationality  of  the  Church 
must  always  be  so  far  false  that  you  can  never  have  a  right  to  act  as  if  it 
were  entirely  true.  And  the  same  difficulty  besets  the  Education  Question, 
where  I  neither  like  the  government  plan  nor  the  Diocesan  System, — and 
am  only  glad  that  I  can  avoid  taking  an  active  part  on  either  side.      One 


370  LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

thing  I  see,  that  if  attempts  be  made,  as  they  seem  to  be,  to  make  the  power 
of  the  Bishops  less  nominal  than  it  has  been,  there  will  be  all  the  better 
chance  of  our  getting  a  really  good  Church  government ;  for  irresponsible  per- 
sons, irremovable,  and  acting  without  responsible  advisers,  are  such  a  sole- 
cism in  government,  that  they  can  only  be  suffered  to  exist  so  long  as  they  do 
nothing  ;  let  them  begin  to  act,  and  the  vices  of  their  constitution  will  become 
flagrant.  I  have  written  even  this  little  note  at  two  different  times,  and  yet 
it  is  not  finished.  I  should  be  glad  to  get  any  detailed  criticism  on  my  Pro- 
phecy Sermons,  but  that,  I  am  afraid,  I  shall  not  get.  If  you  put,  as  you 
may  do,  Christ  for  abstract  good,  and  Satan  for  abstract  evil,  I  do  not  think 
that  the  notion  is  so  startling  that  they  are  the  main  and  only  perfect  subjects 
of  Prophecy,  and  that  in  all  other  cases  the  language  is  hyberbolical  in  some 
part  or  other ;  hyperbolical,  I  mean,  and  not  merely  figurative.  Nor  can  I 
conceive  how,  on  any  other  supposition,  the  repeated  applications  of  the  Old 
Testament  language  to  our  Lord,  not  only  by  others,  but  by  Himself,  can  be 
understood  to  be  other  than  arbitrary. 


CCXLII.      TO    CHEVALIER    BDNSEN. 

Rugby,  May  26,  1840. 

. , I  feel  very  deeply  the  kindness  of  all  that  you  say  about 

my  work,  and  rejoice  with  the  greatest  thankfulness  that  you  are  breathing 
more  freely.  You  may  remember  that  I  used  to  be  very  anxious  about  you,  and 
now  I  rejoice  to  think  that  you  are  relieved  from  your  burdens,  and  have  only 
to  beware  of  over  indulgence  in  your  own  works,  a  more  beguiling  danger, 
probably,  than  that  of  working  too  much  at  what  is  mere  business.  For 
myself,  if  I  were  left  to  my  natural  taste  merely,  I  believe  I  should  do  little 
but  read  and  write  and  enjoy  the  society  of  my  own  family  and  dearest 
friends ;  but  I  believe  also,  most  sincerely,  that  it  is  far  better  for  me  to  be 
engaged  in  practical  life,  and  therefore  I  am  thankful  for  the  external 
necessity  which  obliges  me  to  go  on  at  Rugby.  In  fact,  the  mixture  of 
school  work  and  of  my  own  reading  furnishes  a  useful,  and  I  feel,  too,  a 
pleasant  variety  ;  and  I  cannot  perceive  that  it  is  any  strain  upon  my  con- 
stitution, while  I  sleep  life  an  infant,  and  daily  have  either  a  bathe  or  a  walk 
in  the  country,  where  I  think  neither  of  school  nor  of  history. 

No  doubt  I  feel  very  keenly  the  narrow  compass  of  my  reading,  from  the 
want  of  greater  leisure  ;  and  it  hinders  me  from  trying  to  do  some  things 
which  I  should  like  to  do ;  but  I  am  pretty  well  reconciled  to  this,  and,  as 
long  as  I  feel  that  I  can  be  useful  practically  in  the  work  of  education,  I  am 
well  content  to  relinquish  some  plans  which  would  otherwise  have  been  very 
dear  to  me.  But  then  my  health  may  fail,  and  what  am  I  to  do  then  ?  I 
know  the  answer  which  you  would  make  in  my  place,  and  I  would  try  to 
share  in  your  spirit,  and  to  say,  that  then  Christ.  I  doubt  not,  will  provide  for 
me  as  He  sees  best.  As  man  wishes  and  schemes,  I  think  that  I  should  like 
to  go  on  here  till  Matt  and  Tom  have  gone  through  the  University,  and 
then,  if  I  could,  retire  to  Fox  How.  But  I  would  earnestly  pray,  and  would 
ask  your  prayers  too  for  me,  that  in  this  and  in  all  things  I  may  have  a 
single  heart  and  will,  wishing  for  nothing  but  what  Christ  wishes  and  wills 
for  me. 

I  read  your  accounts  of  your  own  pursuits  with  a  pleasure  more  than  I 
could  describe.  It  is,  indeed,  a  feeling  deeper  than  pleasure;  a  solemn 
thankfulness  that  you  are  so  blessed  with  the  will  and  the  power  to  set  forth 
the  truth  in  faith  and  love.  And  most  earnestly  do  I  pray  that  God's  bless- 
ing may  be  upon  all  your  works  to  complete  them  to  His  own  glory,  and  to  the 
good  of  His  Church.  I  do  rejoice,  indeed,  to  see  you  now  reaping  the  fruits 
for  which  you  have  sowed  so  patiently,  and  seizing  those  great  truths  to 
which,  by  so  many  years  of  quiet  labour, — and  labour  which  ignorant  per- 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  371 

sons  often  thought  and  think  to  have  another  direction,  as  the  parallels  of 
a  besieger's  approaches  are  not  carried  in  a  straight  line  to  the  ditch, — you 
were  silently  and  surely  making  your  way  good.  But  it  is  a  sad  feeling, 
too.  when  I  turn  to  our  own  Church,  and  see  the  spirit  which  prevails  here. 

Now  for  the  second  volume  of  my  History,  I  shall  have  no  pleasure,  or 
next  to  none,  in  sending  it  to  you,  for  you  will  sadly  feel  its  poverty.  You 
will  perceive,  what  I  know  too  well,  that  every  where  you  are  in  soundings, 
and  that  too  often  you  are  almost  in  shoal  water.  I  mean,  you  will  perceive 
ihe  defects  of  my  knowledge  at  every  turn  ;  how  many  books  I  have  never 
read,  perhaps  have  never  heard  of;  how  incapable  I  am  of  probing  many 
of  the  questions,  which  I  notice,  to  the  bottom.  I  wished  to  have  your  Es- 
say on  the  Principles  of  Historical  Criticism,  which  you  promised  me  when 
you  were  in  Westmoreland ;  but  now  I  must  beg  for  it  for  the  third  volume. 
I  think  that  you  will  like  the  tone  of  the  book ;  in  that  alone  I  can  think  of 
your  reading  it  with  pleasure;  but  alas  !  alas!  that  I  should  have  had  to 
write  such  a  book  in  the  face  of  Niebuhr's  third  volume,  which  yet  I  was 
obliged  to  do. 

I  went  up  to  one  of  our  levees  about  three  weeks  ago, 

and  was  presented  to  the  Queen.  1  believe  that  one  of  the  principal  reasons 
which  led  me  to  go,  was  to  enable  me  to  be  presented  hereafter,  if  it  may 
be,  by  you  at  Berlin.  I  saw  several  people  whom  I  was  glad  to  see,  and 
was  amused  by  the  novelty  of  the  scene.  Our  political  world  offers  nothing 
on  which  I  can  dwell  with  pleasure  or  with  hope.  One  or  two  men  are 
stirring  the  question  of  Subscription  to  the  Articles  and  Liturgy,  wishing  to 
get  its  terms  altered.     Hull  prepared  a  petition  to  this  effect,  which  Whately 

will  present  this  evening  in  the  House  of  Lords.    signed  it,  as  did , 

and  so  did  I ;  not  that  I  believe  it  will  do  any  good,  nor  that  my  own  partic- 
ular wish  would  lead  me  to  seek  for  reform  there  ;  it  is  in  government  and 
discipline,  not  in  doctrine,  that  our  Church  wants  mending  most ;  but,  when 
any  good  men  feel  it  a  matter  of  conscience  to  petition  for  what  I  think  good 
and  right,  I  do  not  feel  it  becoming  to  stand  aloof  from  them,  especially  where 
the  expression  of  their  sentiments  is  likely  to  expose  them  to  some  odium. 
But  for  my  own  satisfaction,  I  drew  up  and  sent  to  Whately  a  _  sketch  of 
what  I  should  myself  wish  to  petition  for ;  namely,  the  abolition  of  those  po- 
litical services  for  the  30th  of  January,  &c,  and  the  repeal  of  all  acts  or 
canons  which  forbid  deacons  from  following  a  secular  calling.  Sir  R.  Inglis 
is  going  to  propose  a  grant  of  £400,000  a  year  for  new  clergymen ;  but 
surely  his  end  would  be  better  answered,  and  at  no  expense,  by  reviving  the 
order  of  deacons,  and  enabling  us  to  see  that  union  of  the  Christian  ministry 
with  the  common  business  of  life  which  would  be  such  a  benefit  both  to  the 
clergy  and  the  laity.  Whately  approved  entirely  of  the  petition,  but  thought 
it  too  abrupt  a  way  of  proceeding,  as  the  subject  would  be  new  to  so  many. 
Here,  indeed,  I  do  feelthe  want  of  time  ;  for  I'should  like  to  write  upon  the 
point,  and  go  into  it  deeply,  which  now  I  cannot  do  at  all. 


CCXLIII.      TO    THE    SAME. 

Rugby,  June  13, 1840. 

T  know  not  whether  this  letter  may  find  you  at  Berne ;  probably  not,  for 
I  have  just  read  the  official  account  of  the  King  of  Prussia's  death ;  but  it 
may  wait  for  you  or  follow  you  to  Berlin,  and  I  would  not  willingly  let  a  day 
pass  without  expressing  my  deep  interest  in  the  present  crisis.  That  extract 
which  you  wrote  out  for  me  is  indeed  glorious,  and  fills  one  with  thankful- 
ness that  God  has  raised  up  such  a  King  in  a  great  Protestant  country  at 
this  momentous  time ;  when  the  great  enemy  in  his  two  forms  at  once,  Satan 
and  Antichrist,  the  blasphemy  of  the  Epicurean  Atheist,  and  the  idolatry  of 
the  lying  and  formal  spirit  of  Priestcraft  is  assailing  the  Church  with  all  his 


372  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

might.  May  Christ's  strength  and  blessing  be  with  the  King  and  with  yon, 
that  Prussia  maybe  as  the  mountain  of  the  Lord,  the  city  of  God  upon  a  hill, 
whose  light  cannot  be  hid. 

I  have  in  the  last  week  again  felt  the  effects  of  your  true  friendship. 
Bishop^Stanley  procured  for  me  from  Lord  Melbourne,  the  offer  of  the  Ward- 
enship  of  Manchester  College,  just  vacant ;  and  he  told  me  that  he  had 
been  especially  induced  to  try  to  get  something  for  me  by  a  letter  of  yours, 
in  which  you  expressed  your  great  anxiety  that  I  should  be  relieved  from 
the  burden  of  Rugby.  But.  indeed,  dearest  friend,  Rugby,  while  it  goes  on 
well,  is  not  a  burden,  but  the  thing  of  all  others  which  I  believe  to  be  most 
fitted  for  me  while  I  am  well  and  in  the  vigour  of  life.  The  Wardenship  I 
declined,  for  the  income  was  so  comparatively  small,  that  I  should  have 
found  a  difficulty  in  educating  my  children  on  it;  but  much  more,  I  must 
either  have  made  the  office  a  sinecure,  or  it  would  have  involved  me.  in 
labours  and  responsibilities  quite  equal  to  those  which  I  have  now,  and  of  a 
kind  quite  new  to  me.  And  I  think  that  the  Bishop  was  satisfied  that  I  did 
right  in  declining  it ;  but  I  do  not  feel  the  less  strongly  his  great  kindness 
and  yours God  bless  and  prosper  you  always. 


CCXLIV.      TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.      (B.) 

Rugby,  August  17,  1840. 

I  do  not  give  heed  to  much  of  what  I  hear  about  men's 

opinions,  because,  having  had  my  own  often  misunderstood,  I  am  prepared 
to  find  the  same  thing  in  the  case  of  my  neighbours.  Yet  I  confess  that  I 
should  like  to  know  the  position  of  your  mind  at  the  present  moment,  be- 
cause some  three  or  four  years  ago  it  had  attained,  I  think,  to  an  unusual 
degree  of  independence  and  vigour,  and  therefore  its  progress  is  to  me  a 
greater  matter  of  interest.  And  I  remember  well,  by  my  own  experience, 
the  strong  tendency  of  an  Oxford  life  upon  any  one  Avho  is  justly  fond  of 
Oxford,  to  make  him  exceedingly  venerate  those  who  are  at  the  head  of 
Oxford  society But  then  in  those  days  the  excessive  admira- 
tion was  less  injurious,  because  it  was  merely  personal ;  there  was  no  set  of 
opinions  identified  with  Davison  and  Coplestone  which  one  learnt  to  vene- 
rate for  their  sake.  The  influence  of  the  place  in  this  way  can  hardly  be 
resisted  during  a  certain  time  of  a  man's  life ;  I  got  loose  from  it  before  I 
left  Oxford,  because  I  found,  as  my  own  mind  grew,  that  those  whom  I  had 
so  reverenced  were  not  so  much  above  myself,  and  I  knew  well  enough 
that  I  should  myself  have  made  but  a  sorry  oracle.  And  this  I  think  has  hin- 
dered me  from  looking  up  to  any  man  as  a  sort  of  general  guide  ever  since; 
not  that  I  have  transferred  my  idolatry  from  other  men's  minds  to  my  own, 
— which  would  have  been  a  change  greatly  for  the  worse, — but  as  much  as 
I  have  felt  its  strength  comparatively  with  others,  so  also  have  I  felt  its 
absolute  weakness  and  want  of  knowledge.  I  have  great  need  of  learning 
daily,  but  I  am  sure  that  other  men  are  in  the  like  predicament, — in  some 
things,  though  in  fewer  than  in  any  other  man  whom  I  know,  Bunsen  him- 
self. But  all  the  eminent  Englishmen  whom  I  know  have  need  of  learning 
in  a  great  many  points ;  and  I  cannot  turn  my  schoolfellows  into  my  mas- 
ters ;  ov  noXv  Sicupigtt  ttv&Qwnpq  av&Qta'nov  is  a  very  important  truth,  if  one 
appreciates  properly  the  general  wisdom  of  mankind  as  well  as  its  general 
unwisdom  ;  otherwise  it  leads  to  skepticism,  a  state  which  I  dread  and  ab 
hor  every  day  more  and  more,  both  in  itself  and  as  being  so  often  the  gate 
of  idolatry. 

My  object  in  saying  all  this  is  mainly  to  warn  you  against  the  secret 
influence  of  the  air  in  which  you  are  living  for  so  large  a  portion  of  the 
year.  Like  all  climates  it  has  its  noxious  elements,  and  these  affect  the 
constitution  surely  but  unconsciously,  if  it  be  continually  exposed  to  their 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  373 

influence,  unless  a  man,  knowing  that  he  is  living  in  an  aguish  district, 
looks  to  his  diet  and  habits  accordingly:  and,  as  poor  Davison  did  when  he 
lived  in  the  fens,  gets  his  supply  of  water  from  a  distance. 

Perhaps  my  late  journey  makes  me  more  alive  to  the  mischievous  effects 
of  any  one  local  influence.  One  cannot  help  feeling  how  very  narrow  the 
view  of  any  one  place  must  be,  when  there  are  so  many  other  views  in  the 
world,  none  scarcely  without  some  element  of  truth,  or  some  facility  for 
discerning  it  which  another  has  not. 

For  my  own  especial  objects  my  journey  answered  excellently.  I  feel 
that  I  have  no  need  of  going  to  Italy  again ;  that  my  recollection  of  Rome 
is  completely  refreshed,  and  that  having  seen  Naples  and  the  interior  of  the 
country  between  Naples  and  Terni.  I  have  nothing  more  to  desire,  for  it 
would  be  idle  to  expect  to  visit  every  single  spot  in  Italy  which  might  in 
itself  be  interesting.  The  beauty  of  the  country  between  Antrodoco  and 
Terni  surpassed,  I  think,  any  thing  that  I  saw,  except  it  be  La  Cava,  and 
the  country  dividing  the  bay  of  Naples  from  that  of  Salerno.  But  Avhen 
we  returned  to  Fox  How,  I  thought  that  no  scene  on  this  earth  could  ever 
be  to  me  so  beautiful.  I  mean  that  so  great  was  its  actual  natural  beauty, 
that  no  possible  excess  of  beauty  in  any  other  scene  could  balance  the  deep 
charm  of  home  which  in  Fox  How  breathes  through  every  thing.  But  the 
actual  and  real  beauty  of  Fox  How  is,  in  my  judgment,  worthy  to  be  put  in 
comparison  with  any  thing  as  a  place  for  human  dwelling.  I  have  run  on 
at  greater  length  than  I  intended. 


CCXLV.      *  TO    REV.    H.   BALSTON, 
(Who  was  threatened  with  Consumption.) 

Rugby,  August  17,  1840. 

I   grieved  not  to  see  you  on  our  way  to  France,  as  Rugby, 

I  fear,  must  be  forbidden  ground  to  you  at  present;  this  cold  air  would  ill 
suit  a  delicate  chest.  I  have  great  confidence  in  a  southern  climate,  if  only 
it  be  taken  in  time,  which  I  should  trust  was  the  case  in  the  present  instance. 
But  certainly  my  summer's  experience  of  Italy  has  not  impressed  me  with 
a  favourable  opinion  of  the  climate  there ;  for  the  changes  from  heat  to 
cold,  and  severe  cold,  were  very  trying ;  and  after  sunset,  or  at  any  consid- 
erable elevation  of  ground,  I  found  the  cold  quite  piercing  on  several  occa- 
sions. And  in  the  Alps  it  was  really  miserable,  and  I  never  worked  at 
lighting  a  fire  with  such  hearty  good  will  as  I  did  at  Airolo  in   Italy  in  this 

present  year We  enjoyed  greatly  our  four  days  at  Fox  How, 

and  are  now  returned  in  good  bodily  condition,  and  I  trust  disposed  in  mind 
also,  to  engage  in  the  great  work  which  is  here  offered, — a  work,  the  im- 
portance of  which  can  hardly,  I  think,  be  overrated. 

I  thank  you  most  truly  for  the  kind  expressions  with  which  your  note 
concludes.  It  would  make  me  most  happy  if  I  could  feel  that  I  duly  availed 
myself  of  my  opportunities  here  to  teach  and  impress  the  one  thing  needful. 
It  was  a  wise  injunction  to  Timothy,  "  to  be  instant  in  season  and  out  of 
season,"  because  we  so  often  fancy  that  a  word  would  be  out  of  season 
when  it  would  in  fact  be  seasonable.  And  I  believe  I  often  say  too  little 
from  a  dread  of  saying  too  much.  Here,  as  in  secular  knowledge,  he  is  the 
best  teacher  of  others  who  is  best  taught  himself ;  that  which  we  know  and 
love  we  cannot  but  communicate  ;  that  which  we  know  and  do  not  love  we 
soon,  I  think,  cease  to  know. 


374  LIFE  0F  DR  ARNOLD. 


CCLXVI.   TO  CHEVALIER  BUNSEN. 

R  ugby,   September  4,  1S40. 

Both  public  and  private  matters  furnish  me  with  more  points 

on  which  I  should  like  to  talk  to  you,  than  it  is  possible  to  enter  on  in  a  letter. 
May  God  avert  the  calamity  of  a  general  war,  which  would  be,  I  think,  an 
unmixed  evil  from  which  no  power  could  gain  any  thing,  except  it  were 
Russia.  I  cannot  help  looking  to  Russia  as  God's  appointed  instrument  for 
such  revolutions  in  the  races,  institutions,  and  dominions  of  Europe,  as  He 
may  yet  think  fit  to  bring  about.  But,  as  far  as  England  and  France  are 
concerned,  war  could  only  be  disastrous  to  both  parties. 

My  private  prospects  have  acquired  a  fixedness  which  they  never  before 
have  had  so  completely,  because  I  have  now  reason  to  know  that  I  should 
never  be  appointed  to  one  of  those  new  Professorships  in  Oxford,  which 

above  all  other  things  would  have  been  acceptable  to  me It 

vexes  me  to  be  thus  shut  out  from  the  very  place  where  I  fancy  that  I 
could  do  most  good ;  but  these  things  are  fixed  by  One  who  knows  best 
where  and  how  He  would  have  us  to  serve  Him,  and  it  seems  to  tell  me 
plainly  that  my  appointed  work  is  here.  I  know  that  I  have  yearnings  after 
opportunities  for  writing — not  so  much  on  account  of  the  History  as  for 
other  matters  far  nearer  and  dearer,  above  all  that  great  question  of  the 
Church.  But  still  the  work  here  ought  to  satisfy  all  my  desires;  and,  if  I 
ever  live  to  retire  to  Fox  How  with  undecayed  faculties,  the  mountains  and 
streams,  which  I  so  love,  may  well  inspire  me  with  a  sort  of  swan-like  strain, 
even  in  old  age.  Meantime,  the  school  is  fuller  than  ever,  and  all  seems 
encouraging.  I  shall  have  another  new  master  to  appoint  at  Christmas, 
and  shall  perhaps  be  able  to  find  one  amongst  my  own  old  pupils. 

I  have  to  thank  you  for  Guttling's  book  on  the  Roman 

Constitution,  and  for  Dorner's  work  on  the  Doctrine  as  to  the  person  of 
Christ.  But  I  seem  to  be  able  to  read  less  than  ever,  and  all  books  alike 
stand  on  my  shelves,  as  it  were,  mocking  me ;  for  I  cannot  make  use  of 
them  though  I  have  them. 

tTenry  will  come  down  here  next  month,  to  have  his  examination  from 
me  previously  to  going  into  the  schools.  He  will  stay  here,  I  hope,  some 
time ;  for  it  will  do  him  good,  I  think,  to  be  out  of  Oxford  as  much  as  he  can 
just  before  his  examination,  when  he  will  need  all  possible  refreshment  and 
repose.     Tell  me  something  of  your  absent  sons,  of  Ernest,  and  Charles, 

and  George,  of  whose  progress  I  should  much  like  to  hear God 

bless  you,  my  dearest  friend. 


CCXLVII.       TO    SIR    THOMAS    PASLEY,    BART. 

Rugby,  October  19,  1840. 

.  .  .'  .  .  .  I  never  rejoiced  so  much  as  I  do  now  that  I  see  no  daily 
newspaper.  I  think  that  the  interest  of  this  present  crisis  would  soon  make 
me  quite  ill,  if  I  did  not  keep  my  eyes  away  from  it.  The  spirit  displayed 
by  the  French  press,  and  by,  I  fear,  a  large  portion  of  the  people,  is  very 
painful  to  all  those  who,  like  me,  have  been  trying  resolutely  to  look  on 
France  with  regard  and  with  hope :  and  it  will  awaken,  I  doubt  not,  that 
vulgar  Antigallican  feeling  in  England  which  did  so  much  mischief  morally 
to  us.  Besides,  I  dread  a  war  on  every  conceivable  ground,  both  politically 
and  morally.  I  do  not  see  how  any  power  but  Russia  can  gain  by  it ;  and 
Russia's  gain  seems  to  me  to  be  the  world's  loss.  Besides,  I  have  no  faith 
in  coalitions  ;  the  success  of  1814  and  1815  was  a  rare  exception,  owing  to 
special  causes,  none  of  which  are  in  action  now;  so  that  I  have  great  fears 
of  France  being  victorious;  for,  with  the  greatest  respect  for  our  army  and 
navy,  I  have  none  whatever  for  our  war  ministers,  whether  Whig  or  Tory, 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  375 

— blundering  in  that  department  having  marked  all  our  wars,  with  scarcely 
a  single  year's  exception.  And  then  the  money  and  the  debt,  and  the  mort- 
gaging our  land  and  industry  still  deeper  ;  and  thus  inevitably  feeding  the 
deadly  ulcer  of  Chartism,  which  now,  for  the  moment,  is  skinned  over,  and 
being  out  of  sight,  is  with  most  of  us,  according  to  the  usual  infirmity  of 
human  nature,  out  of  mind.  Certainly  the  command  to  "  put  not  our  trust 
in  princes,  nor  in  the  son  of  man,  for  there  is  no  help  in  them,"  was  never  less 
difficult  to  fulfil  than  now  ;  for  he  must  be  a  desperate  idolater  who  can  find 
among  our  statesmen  any  one  on  whom  he  can  repose  any  excessive  confidence. 
One  thing  has  delighted  me,  namely,  Bishop  Stanley's  speech  on  the 
presentation  of  the  petition  last  session  lor  the  revision  of  the  Liturgy,  &c.  , 
which  he  has  now  published  with  notes.  He  has  done  the  thing  exceeding- 
ly well,  and  has  closed  himself  completely,  I  think,  against  all  attack.     But 

I  do  not  imagine  that  the  question  itself  will  make  any  progress 

I  am  reading  and  abstracting  Cyprian's  Letters, — the  oldest  really  histori- 
cal monument  of  the  condition  of  the  Christian  Church  after  the  Apostolical 
Epistles.  They  are  full  of  information,  as  all  real  letters  written  by  men  in 
public  stations  must  be;  and  are  far  better  worth  reading  than  any  of  Cy- 
prian's other  works,  which  are  indeed  of  little  value.  I  am  revising  my 
Thucydides  for  the  second  edition,  and  reserving  the  third  volume  of  Rome 
for  Fox  How ;  so  that  I  do  not  do  much  at  present  beyond  the  business  of 
the  school :  we  are  sadly  too  full  in  point  of  numbers,  and  I  have  got  thirty- 
six  in  my  own  form.  I  have  read  Mr.  Turnbull's  book  on  Austria,  which  I 
like  much,  and  it  well  agrees  with  my  tenderness  for  the  Austrian  govern- 
ment and  people. 


CCXLVIII.       TO    THE    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Rugby,  September  14,  1840. 

I  have  received  your  Bampton  Lectures,  for  which  I 

thank  you  much  ;  and  I  have  read  seven  out  of  the  eight  Sermons  carefully, 
and  shall  soon  finish  the  volume.  The  volume  interested  me  greatly  for  the 
subject's  sake,  as  well  as  for  your  own.  With  much  I  entirely  agree, — indeed 
I  quite  agree  as  to  your  main  positions ;  but  I  have  always  supposed  it  to  be  a 
mere  enemy's  caricature  of  our  Protestant  doctrine,  when  any  are  supposed 
to  maintain  that  it  is  the  duty  of  each  individual  to  make  out  his  faith  de 
novo,  from  the  Scriptures  alone,  without  regard  to  any  other  authority,  living 
or  dead.  I  read  with  particular  interest  what  you  say  about  Episcopacy,  be- 
cause I  did  not  know  exactly  what  you  thought  on  the  subject:  there  I  am 
sorry  to  find  that  we  differ  most  widely.  I  cannot  understand  from  your 
book, — and  I  never  can  make  out  from  any  body,  except  the  strong  Newman- 
ites, — what  the  essence  of  Episcopacy  is  supposed  to  be.  The  Newmanites 
say  that  certain  divine  powers  of  administering  the  Sacraments  effectually 
can  only  be  communicated  by  a  regular  succession  from  those  who,  as  they 
supposed,  had  them  at  first.  W.  Law  holds  this  ground ;  there  must  be  a 
succession  in  order  to  keep  up  the  mysterious  gift  bestowed  on  the  priest- 
hood, which  gift  makes  Baptism  wash,  away  sin,  and  converts  the  elements 
in  the  Lord's  Supper  into  effectual  means  of  grace.  This  is  intelligible  and 
consistent,  though  I  believe  it  to  be  in  the  highest  degree  false  and  Anti- 
christian.  Is  Government  the  essence  of  Episcopacy,  which  was  meant  to 
be  perpetual  in  the  Church?  Is  it  .the  monarchical  element  of  government? 
— and  if  so,  is  it  the  monarchical  element,  pure,  or  limited  ?  Conoeive  what 
a  difference  between  an  absolute  mouarchy,  and  one  limited  like  ours;  and 
still  more  like  the  French  monarchy  under  the  constitution  of  1789.  I  can- 
not in  the  least  tell,  therefore,  what  you  suppose  to  be  the  real  thing  intend- 
ed to  be  kept  in  the  Church,  as  I  suppose  that  you  do  not  like  the  Newman- 
ite  view.     And  all  the  moderate  High  Churchmen  appear  to  me  to  labour 


376  L1PE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

under  the  same  defect.— that  they  do  not  seem  to  perceive  clearly  what  is 
the  essence  of  Episcopacy  ;  or,  if  they  do  perceive  it,  they  do  not  express 
themselves  clearly. 

Another  point  incidentally  introduced,  appeared  to  me  also  to  be  not 
stated  quite  plainly.  You  complain  of  those  persons  who  judge  of  a  Reve- 
lation, not  by  its  evidence,  but  by  its  substance.  It  has  always  seemed  to 
me  that  its  substance  is  a  most  essential  part  of  its  evidence  ;  and  that  mir- 
acles wrought  in  favour  of  what  Avas  foolish  or  wicked,  would  only  prove 
Manicheism.  We  are  so  perfectly  ignorant  of  the  unseen  world,  that  the 
character  of  any  supernatural  power  can  be  only  judged  of  by  the  moral 
character  of  the  statements  which  it  sanctions  ;  thus  only  can  we  tell  whether 
it  be  a  revelation  from  God,  or  from  the  Devil.  If  his  father  tells  a  child 
something  which  seems  to  him  monstrous,  faith  requires  him  to  submit  his 
own  judgment,  because  he  knows  his  father's  person,  and  is  sure,  therefore, 
that  his  father  tells  it  him.  But  we  cannot  thus  know  God,  and  can  only 
recognize  His  voice  by  the  words  spoken  being  in  agreement  with  our  idea 
of  His  moral  nature.  Enough,  however,  of  this.  I  should  hope  that  your 
book  would  do  good  in  Oxford ;  but  whether  any  thing  can  do  good  there 
or  not  is  to  me  sometimes  doubtful. 


CCXL1X.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  Septembnr  21,  1840. 

•  This  sheet  is  not  so  large  as  yours,  but  it  is  my  largest  size  next  to  fools- 
cap ;  and  I  readily  and  thankfully  acknowledge  your  claim  upon  me  for  as 
long  and  full  a  letter  as  I  can  write.  I  have  more  time  than  enough  just 
now,  for  I  have  been  confined  to  my  room  since  Thursday  with  a  slight  at- 
tack of  fever,  which,  though  it  would  be  nothing,  I  suppose,  to  any  one  else, 
yet  always  has  such  an  effect  upon  my  constitution  as  to  unfit  me  for  all 
exertion ;  and  I  lay  either  in  bed  or  on  the  sofa  in  my  room  for  three  days,  ■ 
a  most  inutile  lignum.  Nor  am  I  yet  allowed  to  go  down  stairs,  but  I  am 
on  the  mend,  and  my  pulse  has  returned  nearly  to  its  natural  tardiness, 
which  in  me  is  its  state  of  health.  So  I  can  now  thank  you  very  heartily 
for  your  letter,  and  that-  delightful  picture  which  it  gave  me  of  your  home 
repose.  No  man  feels  more  keenly  than  I  do  how  much  better  it  is  naoaXa- 
piiv  xov  aygov  than  xtrjaaaO-ai, — if  my  father's  place  in  the  Isle  of  Wight  had 
never  passed  out  of  his  executors'  hands,  I  doubt  whether  I  ever  could  have 
built  Fox  How,  although  in  all  other  respects  there  is  no  comparison  to 
my  mind  between  the  Isle  of  Wight  and  Westmoreland.  Therefore  I 
"  macarize  "  you  the  more,  for  having  both  an  inherited  home,  and  in  a 
county  and  part  of  the  county  per  se  delightful.  I  never  saw  Ottery  but 
once,  and  that  in  the  winter ;  but  the  valley  and  the  stream,  and  the  old 
church,  and  your  house,  are  still  tolerably  distinct  in  my  memory ;  and  I  do 
trust  that  one  day  they  will  be  freshened  by  a  second  actual  view  of  them. 
Cornish  and  his  wife,  I  hear,  are  actually  in  Yorkshire :  if  you  can  tell  where 
a  letter  would  find  them,  I  would  ask  you  to-let  me  know  by  one  line,  for  I 
want  to  catch  them  on  their  return,  and  to  secure  some  portion  of  their  time 
by  a  previous  promise  before  George's  home  sickness  comes  on  him  like  a 
lion,  and  drives  him  off*  to  Cornwall,  uno  impetu,  complaining  that  even  rail- 
ways are  too  slow The  School  is  flourishing  surprisingly, 

and  I  cannot  keep  our  numbers  within  their  proper  limit ;  but  yet  the  limit 
is  so  far  useful,  that  it  keeps  us  within  bounds,  and  allows  us  to  draw  back 
again  as  soon  as  we  can.  We  are  now  about  340,  and  I  have  admitted  63 
boys  since  the  holidays.  And  all  this  pressure  arose  out  of  applications 
made  previously  to  our  great  success  at  Oxford  in  the  summer,  which  was 
otherwise  likely  to  set  us  up  a  little.  Yet  it  is  very  certain  to  me  that  we 
have  little  distinguished  talent  in  the  School,  and  not  much  of  the  spirit  of 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  377 

reading.  What  gives  me  pleasure  is,  to  observe  a  steady  and  a  kindly 
feeling  in  the  school,  in  general,  towards  the  Masters  and  towards  each 
other.  This  I  say  to-day,  knowing,  however,  so  well  the  unstable  nature  of 
this  boy  sea,  that  I  am  well  aware  how  soon  any  "  dux  turbidus  "  may  set 
our  poor  Adria  all  in  a  commotion. 

Meanwhile,  as  long  as  we  go  on  fairly,  and  my  health  stands,  I  am  well 
convinced  that  for  the  present,  and  so  long  a*s  my  boys  are  in  the  school,  I 

would  rather  be  here  than  anywhere  else Q,uod  est  in  vo- 

tis :  if,  after  a  life  of  so  much  happiness,  I  ought  to  form  a  single  wish  for 
the  future,  it  would  be  to  have  hereafter  a  Canonry  of  Christ  Church,  with 
one  of  the  new  Professorships  of  Scriptural  Interpretation  or  Ecclesiastical 

History But   Oxford,  both  for  its   good  and  its  beauty, 

which  I  love  so  tenderly,  and  for  the  evil  now  tainting  it,  which  I  would  fain 
resist  in  its  very  birthplace,  is  the  place  where  I  would  fain  pass  my  latest 
years  of  unimpaired  faculties. 

It  distresses  me  to  think  of  your  reading  such  a  book  as  Kuinoel.  That 
most  absurd  trash, — absurd  no  less  than  profane, — which  prevailed  for  a 
time  among  the  German  theologians,  I  have  happily  very  little  acquaintance 
with,  except  from  quotations  ;  but  I  have  always  thought  that  it.  was  utterly 
bad.  Niebuhr's  spirit  of  historical  and  literary  criticism  was  as  much  need- 
ed by  German  theologians  as  by  English  ones,  and  Strauss  to  this  day  is 
wholly  without  it.  But  the  best  German  divines,  Lucke,  Tholuck,  Nitzsch, 
Olshausen,  &c,  write  only  in  German,  which  I  fancy  you  do  not  read ; 
neither,  in  fact,  do  I  read  much  of  them,  because  I  have  not  time ;  but 
they  are  good  men,  devout  and  sensible,  as  well  as  learned,  and  what  I  have 
read  of  them  is  really  valuable. 

I  should  have  liked  any  detailed  criticism  of  yours  upon  vol.  ii.  of  History 
of  Rome.  I  have  scarcely  yet  been  able  to  get  any  judgments  upon  the 
two  first  volumes  which  will  help  me  for  those  to  come.  This  second  volume 
will  be,  I  hope,  the  least  interesting  of  all;  for  it  has  no  legends,  and  no  con- 
temporary history.  I  tried  hard  to  make  it  lively,  but  that  very  trying  is  too 
like  the  heavy  Baron,  who  leaped  over  the  chairs  in  his  room,  pour  appren- 
dre  d'etre  vif.  What  I  can  honestly  recommend  to  you  in  the  book  is  its 
sincerity ;  I  think  that  it  confesses  its  own  many  imperfections,  without  at- 
tempting to  ride  grand  over  its  subject.  In  the  war  of  Pyrrhus  I  was 
oppressed  all  the  time  by  my  sense  of  Niebuhr's  infinite  superiority*,  for  that 
chapter  in  his  third  volume  is  one  of  the  most  masterly  pieces  of  history  that 
I  know, — so  rich  and  vigorous,  as  well  as  so  intelligent.  I  think  that  I 
breathe  freer  in  the  first  Punic  War,  where  Niebuhr's  work  is  scarcely  more 
than  fragmentary.  I  hope,  though,  to  breathe  freer  still  in  the  second  Punic 
War ;  but  there  floats  before  me  an  image  of  power  and  beauty  in  History, 
which  I  cannot  in  any  way  realize,  and  which  often  tempts  me  to  throw  all 
that  I  have  written  clean  into  the  fire. 


CCL.      *  TO   W.    SETON    KARR,    ESQ. 

(Then  at  Haileybury  College.) 

Rugby,  October  5,  1840. 

I  thank  you  much  for  your  letter,  which  I  was  very  glad  to  receive,  and 
which  gave  me  as  favourable  an  account  of  your  new  abode  as  I  had  expect- 
ed. It  must  be  always  an  anomalous  sort  of  place,  and  I  suppose  that  the 
best  thing  to  do  is  to  turn  the  necessity  of  passing  a  certain  time  there  to  as 
good  account  as  possible,  by  working  well  at  the  Eastern  languages.  I 
should  be  much  obliged  to  you  if  you  would  tell  me  what  Sanskrit  Grammar 
and  Dictionary  you  use  ;  and  whether  there  is  any  thing  like  a  Sanskrit 
Delectus,  or  an  easy  construing  book  for  beginners.  I  am  not  so  old  as  Cato 
was  when  he  learned  Greek,  and  I  confess  that  I  should  like,  if  possible,  to 

25 


378  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

learn  a  little  of  the  sister  of  Greek,  which  has  almost  a  domestic  claim  upon 
us  as  the  oldest  of  our  great  Indo-Germanic  family. 

All  things  are  going  on  here  much  as  usual.  The  foot-ball  matches  are 
in  great  vigour.  The  Sixth  match  is  over,  being  settled  in  one  day  by  the 
defeat  of  the  Sixth.  The  School-house  match  is  pending,  and  the  School- 
house  have  kicked  one  goal.     Pigou,  Bradley,  and  Hodson,  leave  us,  I  am 

afraid,  in  the  course  of  a  week.  ■ I  am  writing  this  at  Fourth 

Lesson,  as  usual,  and  the  lower  row  are  giving  up  their  books,  so  that  I 
must  conclude. 


CCH.      TO    ARCHDEACON    HARE. 

Rugby,  October  28,f1840. 

.  .  .  .  •  .  I  have  read  your  Sermons  with  very  great  pleasure, 
and  ought  long  since  to  have  thanked  you  for  them.  The  Notes,  I  hope, 
will  not  long  be  delayed.  It  is  a  great  delight  to  me  to  read  a  book  with 
which  I  can  agree  so  generally  and  so  heartily.  Universally  one  never 
can  expect  to  agree  with  any  one,  but  one's  highest  reasonable  hope  is 
fulfilled,  when  one  sympathizes  cordially  with  the  greatest  part  of  a  book, 
and  feels  sure,  where  there  is  a  difference,  that  the  writer  would  hear  our 
opinions  patiently,  and  if  he  did  not  agree  with  them,  would  at  least  not 
quarrel  with  us  for  holding  them. 

It  was  no  small  delight  to  me  to  tread  the  ground  of  the  Forum  once 
more,  and  to  see  the  wonders  of  Campania,  and  to  penetrate  into  the  land  of 
the  Samnites  and  Sabines.  I  missed  Bunsen  sadly,  but  his  friend  Abeken 
was  a  most  worthy  substitute,  and  was  hardly  less  kind  than  Bunsen  him- 
self would  have  been. 

I  signed  the  petition,  because,  agreeing  with  its  prayer, 

I  did  not  wish  to  avoid  bearing  my  share  of  its  odium  ;  but  I  am  not  earnest 
about  it  myself,  being  far  more  anxious  about  the  government  and  discipline 
of  the  Church,  than  for  any  alterations  in  the  Liturgy  or  Subscriptions  ; 
although  these  too,  I  think,  should  not  be  left  undone.  But  I  would  do  any 
thing  in  the  world  to  destroy  that  disastrous  fiction  by  which  the  minister 
has  beeit  made  "  personam  Ecclesia?  gerere,"  and  which  the  Oxford  doc- 
trines are  not  only  upholding,  but  aggravating.  Even  Maurice  seems  to 
me  to  be  infected  in  some  measure  with  the  same  error  in  what  he  says  re- 
specting the  right  of  the  Church, — meaning  the  Clergy, — to  educate  the 
people.  A  female  reign  is  an  unfavourable  time,  I  know,  for  pressing 
strongly  the  doctrine  of  the  Crown's  Supremacy.  Yet  that  doctrine  has 
been  vouchsafed  to  our  Church  by  so  rare  and  mere  a  blessing  of  God,  and 
contains  in  itself  so  entirely  the  true  idea  of  the  Christian  perfect  Church, 
the  Kingdom  of  God, — and  is  so  mighty  to  the  overthrowing  of  that  which  I 
regard  as  the  essence  of  all  that  is  evil  in  Popery, — the  doctrine  of  the 
Priesthood, — that  I  do  wish,  even  now,  that  people's  eyes  might  be  opened 
to  see  the  peculiar  blessings  of  our  Church  Constitution,  and  to  work  it  out 
to  its  full  development. 


CCLII.      *    TO    REV.    H.    BALSTON. 

Rugby,  September  9,  1840. 

I  cannot  let  a  day  pass  without  thanking  you  for  your  very  kind  letter. 

Do  not  think  of  answering  this  letter  till  you  feel  quite  able  to 

do  it  without  painful  effort.  It  will  be  a  pleasure  to  me  to  write  to  you 
when  I  can ;  and  I  should  be  very  glad  indeed  if  I  could  help  to  relieve 
what  I  fear  must  be  the  loneliness  of  Guernsey.     But  I  dare  say  that  other 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  379 

people  have  not  always  my  shrinking  from  a  residence  in  a  small  island 
surrounded  by  a  wide  sea ;  it  always  seems  to  me  like  a  prison  in  a  howling 
wilderness 

Since  our  return  I  have  done  little  or  nothing  besides  the  school  work 
and  my  letters.  I  do  not  intend  to  do  much  as  yet  upon  the  History,  but  I 
am  getting  on  a  little  with  Thucydides,  a  work,  however,  in  which  I  take 
now  but  little  interest. 

My  wife  will  add  a  few  lines  to  go  in  the  same  cover  with  this.  We 
always  think  of  you  with  affection,  and  with  no  small  gratitude  for  your 
constant  kindness  to  our  children. 


CCLIII.      TO    THE    SAME. 

Rugby,  October  29,  1840. 

I  cannot  bear  that  a  second  letter  should  go  to  Guernsey,  without  convey- 
ing under  my  own  hand  the  expression  of  my  warmest  thanks  to  Miss  H 

for  her  most  kind  and  delightful  letters And  now,  my  dear  Bal- 

ston,  I  have  not  much  else  to  say,  or  rather,  I  have  much  more  that  I  can 
or  ought  to  say I  look  round  in  the  School,  and  feel  how  ut- 
terly beyond  human  power  is  the  turning  any  single  human  heart  to  God. 
Some  heed,  and  some  heed  not,  with  the  same  outward  means,  as  it  appears, 
offered  to  both,  and  the  door  opened  to  one  no  less  wide  than  to  another. 
But  "  the  kingdom  of  God  suffereth  violence  ;"  and  to  infuse  the  violence, 
which  will  enter  at  all  cost,  and  will  not  be  denied,  belongs  to  Him  alone 
whose  counsels  we  cannot  follow.  You  will  pray  for  us  all,  that  we  may 
glorify  God's  name  in  this  place,  in  teaching  and  in  learning,  in  guiding  and 
in  following. 

I  have  many  delightful  proofs  that  those  who  have  been  here,  have  found 
at  any  rate  no  such  evil  as  to  prevent  their  serving  God  in  after  life ;  and 
some,  I  trust,  have  derived  good  from  Rugby.  But  the  evil  is  great  and 
abounding,  I  well  know ;  and  it  is  very  fearful  to  think  that  it  may  to  some 
be  irreparable  ruin.  I  will  write  again  when  I  can.  May  God  bless  you 
ever,  and  support  you,  as  he  did  my  dear  sister,  through  all  that  He  may 
see  fit  to  lay  on  you.  Be  sure  that  there  is  a  blessing  and  a  safety  in  having 
scarcely  any  other  dealings  than  with  Christ  alone, — in  bearing  His  mani- 
fest will,  and  waiting  for  His  pleasure,— intervening  objects  being  of  neces- 
eity  removed  away. 


CCLIV.      TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.      (G.) 

Rugby,  November  4,  1840. 

Your  letter  gave  me  such  deep  and  lively  pleasure,  that  I  could  scarcely 
restrain  my  joy  within  decent  bounds ;  for  to  see  any  man  whom  I  thoroughly 
value,  delivered  from  the  snare  of  the  law  as  a  profession,  is  with  me  a  mat- 
ter of  the  most  earnest  rejoicing,  It  can  scarcely  be  necessary  for  me  to 
say,  that  as  I  grieved  to  see  you  decided,  as  I  supposed,  in  favour  of  the 
law,  so  I  should  rejoice  in  your  escaping  while  it  is  yet  time,  and  following 
the  right-hand  path  to  any  pure  and  Christian  calling,  which  to  my  mind 
that  of  an  advocate,  according  to  the  common  practice  of  the  Bar,  cannot 
be  ;  and  I  think  that  scarcely  any  practice  could  make  it  such. 

I  think,  too,  that  for  yourself  individually,  you  would  do  well  to  adopt 
another  calling.  I  think  that  your  highest  qualities  could  not  be  exercised 
in  the  law,  while,  if  you  are  at  all  inclined  to  love  argument  as  an  exercise, 
and  therefore  to  practise  it  without  regard  to  its  only  just  end,  truth,  I  can- 
not but  think,  that  the  law  would  be  especially  dangerous  to  you.     For  ad- 


380  LIFE   0P   DR-  ARNOLD. 

vocacy  does  seem  to  me  inconsistent  with  a  strong  perception  of  truth,  and 
to  be  absolutely  intolerable,  unless  where  the  mind  sits  loose,  as  it  were,  from 
any  conclusions,  and  merely  loves  the  exercise  of  making  any  thing  wear 
the  semblance  of  truth  which  it  chooses  for  the  time  being  to  patronize. 

With  respect  to  the  other  part  of  the  question,  while  I  should  delight  to 
see  you  in  the  ministry  of  the  Church,  I  cannot  quite  think  that  the  paro- 
chial ministry  is  so  clearly  to  be  preferred  to  the  work  of  education.  But 
in  this  men  have  also  their  calling,  and  I  would  not  wish  to  tempt  them  from 
it.  Nor  would  I  have  you  think  that  I  mix  up  any  personal  feelings  at  the 
possibility  of  persuading  you  to  join  us  at  Rugby,  with  my  genuine  thank- 
fulness, for  your  own  sake  and  that  of  others,  that,  in  so  great  a  matter  as 
the  choice  of  a  profession,  you  are  disposed  to  turn  from  the  evil  to  the 
good.  But  I  do  not  think  that  our  work  is  open  to  the  objections  which  you 
suppose  ;  it  and  the  parochial  ministry  have  each  their  advantages  and  disad- 
vantages ;  but  education  has  the  advantages,  on  the  whole,  where  it  can  be 
combined  with  opportunities  of  visiting  the  sick  and  old,  the  sobering  need- 
ful to  qualify  the  influences  of  youth  and  health  and  spirits,  so  constantly 
displayed  by  boys  and  necessary  also  in  a  great  degree  to  those  who  teach 
boys.  Do  not  decide  this  point  hastily,  unless  you  feel  yourself  called  as  it 
were  beyond  dispute  to  the  parochial  ministry  ;  if  you  are,  then  follow  it  in 
Christ's  name,  and  may  it  be  blessed  to  you  and  the  Church. 

I  have  been  obliged  to  write  hastily,  but  I  wished  to  lose  no  time.  Write 
again,  or  come  over  to  us,  if  I  can  be  of  any  use  in  answering  any  ques- 
tions. 


CCLV.      TO    THE    SAME. 

Rugby,  November  16,  1840. 

I  am  afraid  that  my  opinion  is  suspected  by  you  because  it  was  expressed 
so  strongly.  However,  you  must  not  suppose  me  to  doubt  that  there  can 
be  most  excellent  men  in  the  profession  even  of  an  advocate,  two  of  my 
most  valued  and  respected  friends  being,  or  having  been,  advocates  ;  and  all 
other  parts  of  the  law  I  hold  in  the  highest  honour,  and  think  that  no  calling 
can  be  nobler.  But  I  do  not  quite  understand  why  you  desire  to  make  out 
a  justification  for  yourself  for  choosing  one  profession  rather  than  another. 
It  seems  to  me  that  the  point  is  as  yet  fully  open.  Your  University  resi- 
dence is  only  just  closed ;  your  legal  studies — your  mere  legal  education — 
can  hardly,  I  suppose,  have  yet  commenced.  Certainly  it  cannot  have  ad- 
vanced as  far  as  your  'theological ;  so  that  in  point  of  preparation  you  are 
actually  more  fitted  for  the  church  ministry  than  for  the  Law. 

Now,  with  respect  to  being  an  example  in  a  profession  where  example 
•is  much  needed,  I  can  hardly  think  that  any  man  could  choose  a  profession 
with  sucha  view  without  some  presumption.  In  such  matters,  safety  rather 
than  victory  should  be  each  man's  object ;  that  desire  to  preserve  his  best  self, 
being  not  selfishness,  but,  as  I  imagine,  the  true  fulfilment  of  the  law.  If 
one  is  by  God's  will  fixed  in  a  calling  full  of  temptation,  but  where  the 
temptations  may  be  overcome,  and  the  victory  will  be  most  encouraging  to 
others,  then  it  may  be  our  duty  to  overcome  rather  than  to  fly ;  but  no  man, 
I  think,  ought  to  seek  temptatidn  in  the  hope  of  serving  the  Church  bril- 
liantly by  overcoming  it. 

With  regard  to  the  minor  question,  I  will  not  enter  upon  it  now.  Thus 
much,  however,  I  may  say,  that,  humanly  speaking,  I  am  not  likely  soon  to 
leave  Rugby;  that  it  would  be  my  greatest  delight  to  have  you  here  as  a 
master ;  and  that  the  field  of  good  here  opened,  is,  I  think,  not  easily  to  be 
surpassed.  If  you  decide  on  the  parochial  ministry,  then  I  think  that  your 
calling  would  be  to  a  large  town  rather  than  to  a  country  village. 


LIFE  OP  DR.  ARNOLD.  3Q1 


CCLVI.      TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL,    ENGAGED    IN    BUSINESS.      (h.) 

Rugby,  November  18,  1840. 

I  think  that  even  your  very  kind  and  handsome  gift  to  the  library  has 
given  me  less  pleasure  than  the  letter  which  accompanied  it,  and  which  was 
one  of  the  highest  gratifications  that  a  man  in  my  profession  can  ever  ex- 
perience. Most  sincerely  do  I  thank  you  for  it;  and  be  assured  that  I  do 
value  it  very  deeply.  Your  letter  holds  out  to  me  another  prospect  which 
interests  me  very  deeply.  I  have  long  felt  a  very  deep  concern  about  the 
state  of  our  manufacturing  population,  and  have  seen  how  enormous  was 
the  work  to  be  done  there,  and  how  much  good  men,  especially  those  who 
were  not  clergymen,  were  wanted  to  do  it.  And  therefore,  I  think  of  you, 
as  engaged  in  business,  with  no  little  satisfaction,  being  convinced  that  a  good 
man,  highly  educated,  cannot  possibly  be  in  a  more  important  position  in  this 
kingdom  than  as  one  of  the  heads  of  a  great  manufacturing  establishment. 
I  feel  encouraged  also  by  the  kindness  of  your  letter,  to  trouble  you,  per- 
haps, hereafter,  with  some  questions  on  a  point  where  my  practical  know- 
ledge is  of  course  nothing.  Yet  I  see  the  evils  and  dangers  of  the  present 
state  of  things,  and  long  that  those  who  have  the  practical  knowledge  could 
be  brought  steadily  and  systematically  to  consider  the  possibility  of  a  reme- 
dy  We  are  now  in  the  midst  of  the  winter  examination,  which, 

as  you  may  remember,  gives  us  all  sufficient  employment. 


CCLVII.      f   TO    REV.    W.    K.    HAMILTON. 

Rugby,  November  18  or  19,  1840. 

I  have  very  much  which  I  should  like  to  say  to  you  if  I 

were  with  you,  but  I  have  not  time  to  write  it,  nor  would  it  do  well  in  a  letter. 

tells  me  that  you  were  gratified  with  the  improvement  in  the  diocese 

of  Salisbury ;  so  one  sees  encouragements  which  cheer  us,  as  well  as  dis- 
appointments enough  to  humble  us ;  but,  perhaps,  I  am  already  partaking  of 
one  of  the  characteristics  of  old  age,  according  to  Aristotle,  and  I  am  less 
inclined  to  hope  than  to  fear.  But  it  is  a  great  comfort  to  know  that  there 
are  many  good  men  at  work,  and  that  their  labours  are  not  without  a 
blessing.  You  will,  I  am  sure,  have  been  wishing  and  praying  that  we  may 
be  saved  from  the  curse  of  war ;  an  evil  which  would  crush  the  seeds  of 
more  good  than  can  be  told  throughout  Europe,  and  confirm  or  revive  mis- 
chiefs innumerable.  Your  godson  is  well,  but  it  is  becoming  needful  to 
keep  him  from  the  boys  of  the  school,  who  would  soon  pet  and  spoil  him. 


CCLVIIl.       TO    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Rugby,  December  4,  1840. 

I  wish  also  to  thank  you  for  your  Sermon,  and  to  say  a 

little  to  you  about  it.  I  quite  agree  with  you  that  you  should  not  attack  the 
Newmanites  directly.  Independently  of  what  I  might  call  the  moral  reasons 
for  your  not  doing  so,  I  thing  that  truth  is  never  best  taught  negatively;  and 
these  very  men  derive  a  great  advantage  from  holding  up  something  posi- 
tive, although,  as  I  think,  it  be  but  a  most  sorry  and  abominable  idol,  to  men's 
faith  and  love;  and  merely  to  say  that  the  idol  is  an  idol,  and  that  its  wor- 
ship is  pernicious,  is  doing  but  little  good,  unless  we  show  where  the  wor- 
ship can  be  transferred*  wholesomely.  But  your  Sermon  is  to  me  personally 
almost  tantalizing,  because  it  shows  that  we  agree  in  so  much,  and  makes 
it  doubly  vexatious  to  me  that  there  is  beyond  this  agreement,  as  I  suppose 
there  must  be,  a  great  and  wide  divergence.   I  suppose  that  it  is  the  hardes 


382  LIFE  0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

thing  in  the  world  to  apprehend  rightly  what  is  that  /itaov,  which  is  really 
the  great  excellence  to  be  aimed  at.  The  Newmanites,  humorously  enough, 
call  their  system  Via  Media.  You  think  that  your  views  are  Via  Media  — 
I  think  that  mine  are  so ;  that  is,  we  all  see  errors  and  dangers  on  the  right 
and  on  the  left  of  us,  and  endeavour  to  avoid  both.  But  I  suppose  that  the 
fit'aov  is  then  only  the  point  of  excellence,  when  it  refers,  as  Aristotle  has 
referred  it.  to  the  simple  tendencies  of  the  human  mind;  whereas  it  appears 
to  me  that  men  are  sometimes  beguiled  by  taking  the  fu'aov  of  the  views  of 
opposite  parties  as  the  true  point  of  excellence,  or  still  more,  the  ptoov  of  the 
opinions  held  by  people  of  our  party  or  of  our  nation  on  any  given  point. 
You  think  that  Newman  is  one  extreme  and  I  another ;  and  so  I  am  well 
aware  that,  in  common  estimation,  we  should  be  held  ;  and  thus  in  Church 
matters  the  fti'aov  would  seem  to  be  somewhere  between  Newman's  views 
and  mine  :  whereas  the  truth  is,  that  in  our  views  of  the  importance  of  the 
Churchjrewman  and  I  are  pretty  well  agreed,  and  therefore  I  stand  as 
widelyKloof  as  he  can  do  from  the  language  of  "  religion  being  an  affair 
betwe/n  God  and  a  man's  own  conscience,"  and  from  all  such  persons  who 
dispute  the  claims  of  the  Church  to  obedience.  But  my  quarrel  with  New- 
man and  with  the  Romanists,  and  with  the  dominant  party  in  the  Church  up 
to  Cyprian,— (Ignatius,  I  firmly  believe,  is  not  to  be  classed  with  them,  ve- 
hement as  his  language  is,) — my  quarrel  with  them  all— and  all  that  I  have 
named  are  exactly  in  the  same  boat— is,  that  they  have  put  a  false  Church 
in  the  place  of  the  true,  and  through  their  counterfeit  have  destroyed  the 
reality,  as  paper  money  drives  away  gold.  And  this  false  Church  is  the 
Priesthood,  to  which  are  ascribed  all  the  powers  really  belonging  to  the  true 
Church,  with  others  which  do  not  and  cannot  belong  to  any  human  power. 
But  the  Priesthood  and  the  Succession  are  inseparable, — the  Succession 
having  no  meaning  whatever  if  there  be  not  a  Priesthood,  as  W.  Law  saw 
and  maintained  ;  arguing,  and  I  think  plausibly  enough,  that  the  Succession 
was  necessary  to  carry  on  the  priestly  virtue  which  alone  makes  the  acts  of 
the  ministry  available.  Now  as  the  authorized  formularies  of  our  Church 
are  perfectly  free  from  this  notion,  and  as  the  twenty-third  Article  to  my 
mind  implies  the  contrary,— for  no  man  who  believed  in  the  necessity  of  a 
Succession,  would  have  failed  to  omit  that,  to  him,  great  criterion  of  the 
lawfulness  of  any  ordination, — it  has  always  vexed  me  to  see  our  Clergy 
coquetting  as  they  do  with  the  doctrine  of  Succession,  and  clinging  to  it, 
even  while  they  stoutly  repudiate  those  notions  of  a  Priesthood  which  the 
Succession  doctrine  really  involves  in  it.  And  it  is  by  this  handle  that  the 
Newmanites  have  gained  such  ground,  especially  with  the  Evangelicals, — 
for  they  too  have  been  fond  of  the  Succession  notion,  and  when  the  doctrine 
has  been  pressed  to  its  consequences,  they  have  in  many  instances  embraced 
them,  however  repugnant  to  their  former  general  views  of  doctrine.  You 
speak  of  persons  who  do  not  value  Church  privileges.  I  have  no  sympathy 
with  such  at  all ;  but  then  you  seem  to  connect  Church  privileges  with  the 
Succession,  and  to  shrink  from  those  who  deny  the  Succession  as  if  they 
undervalued  the  Church.  Perhaps  I  understood  you  wrongly  in  this,  and, 
if  so,  I  shall  be  truly  rejoiced,  for,  to  my  mind,  he  who  holds  to  the  Succes- 
sion as  necessary,  should,  consistently,  adopt  "Newmanism  to  its  full  extent ; 
for  really  and  truly  the  meaning  of  the  Succession  is  what  one  of  the 
writers  of  the  Tracts  stated  in  one  of  the  earliest  of  their  numbers,  "  that  no 
one  otherwise  appointed  could  be  sure  that  he  could  give  the  people  the  real 
body  of  Christ."  And  this  is  a  pure  priestly  and  mediatorial  power,  ren- 
dered, according  to  this  hypothesis,  necessary  to  the  Christian's  salvation, 
over  and  above  Christ's  death,  and  his  faith  in  it ;  a  power  which  I  am  sure 
stands  exactly  on  the  same  footing  with  Circumcision  in  the  Gallatian  Church, 
and  what  St.  Paul  says  of  those  who  required  Circumcision  applies  exactly 
to  those  who  so  hold  a  priesthood. 

All  this  has  been  recalled  to  me  now,  for  I  dare  say  I  have  said  it  before, 
by  your  late  sermon,  and  by  my  own  rather  increasing  wish  to  write  on  the 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  383 

whole  question ;  a  wish  strengthened  by  the  incredible  errors  of  Gladstone's 
last  work.  The  vexation  to  me  is,  that  while  I  hold  very  high  Church  doc- 
trines, I  am  considered  as  one  who  dislikes  the  Church,  whereas  my  whole 
hope  for  the  advance  and  triumph  of  the  Gospel  looks  to  it  only  through  the 
restoration  of  the  Church.  But  the  Christians  were  called  ad-toi  because 
they  respected  not  the  idols  which  had  transferred  to  themselves  the  name 
and  worship  of  God  And  so  I  am  called  no  Churchman,  because  I  respect 
not  the  idol  which  has  slipped  not  only  into  the  Church's  place,  but  into 
God's, — i.  e.  the  notion  of  the  Priesthood,  which  does  not  seem  to  me  to  be 
false  only  in  its  excess,  but  altogether  from  the  very  beginning, — priestly 
power  under  the  Gospel  being  reserved  to  Christ  alone,  and  its  character 
being  quite  distinct  from  those  other  powers  of  government,  teaching,  and 
ministration  which  the  Church  may  have  and  must  have.  But  from  the 
natural  confusion  between  government  with  ministration  in  a  religious 
society,  and  the  notion  of  priesthood,  the  master  falsehood  gradually  stole  in 
unperceived,  till  long  time  had  so  sanctioned  it,  that  when  at  last  men  saw 
and  allowed  its  legitimate  consequences,  itself  was  still  spared  as  a  harmless 
and  venerable  error,  if  not  as  a  sacred  truth.  But  I  have  sent  you  a  sermon  in 
manuscript,  a  thing  intolerable,  and  therefore  I  will  end  abruptly,  as  they 
say  my  sermons  are  apt  to  do.  Thank  you  for  your  allusion  to  our  visit  to 
Oxford :  we  hope  that  we  may  at  any  rate  see  something  of  you,  and  you 
need  not  dread  my  coming  up  with  any  designs  of  arguing  or  entering  into 
controversy ;  my  visits  to  Oxford  are  always  intended  to  be  for  peace,  and 
not  for  war. 


CCLIX.      TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.      (G.) 

Rugby,  December  4,  1840. 

I  thank  you  for  a  certain  pamphlet  which gave  me  a  day 

or  two  ago ;  I  most  earnestly  wish  it  success ;  and  such  moral  reforms  are 
among  the  purest  delights  which  a  man  can  ever  enjoy  in  this  life.  I  de- 
light too,  most  heartily,  that  the  change  of  profession  is  decided.  May  God's 
blessing  be  with  your  decision,  through  His  Son  now  and  ever. 


CCLX.      TO    THE     SAME. 

Fox  How,  December  28,  1840. 

I  honour  and  sympathize  with  an  anxiety  to  follow  our  Lord's  will  in 
matters  of  real  moral  importance,  as  much'  as  I  shrink  from  the  habit  of  ex- 
alting every  notice  of  what  was  once  done  in  matters  of  form  into  a  law,  that 
the  same  ought  always  to  be  done,  and  that  Christ  has  commanded  it.  But 
I  do  not  feel  your  objection  to  taking  an  oath  when  required  by  a  lawful  and 
public  authority,  nor  do  I  quite  see  your  distinction,  between  taking  an  oath 
when  imposed  by  a  magistrate  and  taking  one  voluntarily,  in  the  sense  in 
which  alone  the  oath  of  supremacy,  when  taken  at  ordination,  can  be  called 
voluntary.  For,  if  the  thing  be  unlawful,  it  must  be  as  wrong  to  do  it  for 
the  sake  of  avoiding  a  penalty,  as  of  obtaining  a  good.  But  it  is  quite 
clear  to  me  that  the  evil  is  in  requiring  an  oath, — when  we  speak  of  sol- 
emn oaths,  and  not  of  those  used  gratuitously  in  conversation,  to  which  I 
believe  our  Lord's  words  in  the  letter  apply.  I  would  not  do  any  thing 
which  would  imply  that  I  thought  a  Christian's  word  not  sufficient,  and  re- 
quired him  to  make  a  distinction  between  it  and  his  oath.  But  if  an  author- 
ity in  itself  lawful  says  to  me,  "  I  require  of  you,  though  a  Christian,  that 
same  assurance  which  men  in  general  have  agreed  to  look  to  as  the  highest," 
I  do  not  see  that  I  should  object  to  give  it  him,  although  in  my  own  case  I 


384  LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

feel  it  to  be  superfluous.  And  it  appears  to  me  clear  that  our  Lord  did 
Himself  so  comply  with  the  adjuration  of  the  High  Priest.  It  is  a  grief  to 
me  that  the  Church  in  this,  as  in  many  other  things,  has  not  risen  to  the 
height  designed  for  her ,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  the  individual's  business  is 
not  to  require  oaths,  rather  than  not  to  take  them  when  required  by  others. 
The  difference  seems  to  me  to  lie,  as  I  think  our  Article  implies,  not  between 
oaths  voluntary  and  involuntary,— for  no  oath  can  be  strictly  speaking  in- 
voluntary, "  Commands  being  no  constraints'" — but  between  oaths  gratui- 
tously proffered,  where  you  are  yourself  enforcing  the  difference  between 
affirmations  and  oaths,  and  oaths  taken  on  the  requisition  of  a  lawful  au- 
thority, where  you  incur  no  such  responsibility. 


CCLXI.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Fox  How,  January  2,  1841. 

If  our  minds  were  comprehensive  enough,  and  life  were 

long  enough,  to  follow  with  pleasure  every  pursuit  not  sinful,  I  can  fancy  that 
it  would  be  better  to  like  shooting  than  not  to  like  it;  but  as  things  are,  all 
our  life  must  be  a  selection,  and  pursuits  must  be  neglected,  because  we 
have  not  time  or  mind  to  spare  for  them.  So  that  I  cannot  but  think,  that 
shooting  and  fishing,  in  our  state  of  society,  must  always  be  indulged  at  the 
expense  of  something  better. 

I  feel  quite  as  strongly  as  you  do  the  extreme  difficulty  of  giving  to  girls 

what  really  deserves  the  name  of  education  intellectually.     When was 

young,  I  used  to  teach  her  some  Latin  with  her  brothers,  and  that  has  been, 
I  ihink,  of  real  use  to  her,  and  she  feels  it  now  in  reading  and  translating 
German,  of  which  she  does  a  great  deal.  But  there  is  nothing  for  girls  like 
the  Degree  Examination,  which  concentrates  one's  reading  so  beautifully, 
and  makes  one  master  a  certain  number  of  books  perfectly.  And  unless  we 
had  a  domestic  examination  for  young  ladies  to  be  passed  before  they  came 
out,  and  another  like  the  great  go,  before  they  come  of  age,  I  do  not  see  how 
the  thing  can  ever  be  effected.  Seriously,  I  do  not  see  how  we  can  supply 
sufficient  encouragement  for  systematic  and  laborious  reading,  or  how  we  can 
insure  many  things  being  retained  at  once  fully  in  the  mind,  when  we  are 
wholly  without  the  machinery  which  we  have  for  our  boys.  I  do  nothing 
now  with  my  girls  regularly,  owing  to  want  of  time  ;  once,  for  a  little  while, 

I  used  to  examine in  Guizot's  Civilization  of  Prance,  and  I  am  inclined 

to  think  that  few  better  books  could  be  found  for  the  purpose  than  this  and 
his  civilization  of  Europe.  They  embrace  a  great  multitude  of  subjects 
and  a  great  variety,  and  some  philosophical  questions  among  the  rest,  which 
would  introduce  a  girl's  mind  a  little  to  that  world  of  thought  to  which  we 
were  introduced  by  our  Aristotle 

We  had  a  very  delightful  visit  from  the  Cornishes  early  in  December  ; 
Mrs.  Cornish  I  had  only  seen  for  a  few  minutes  at  your  house  since  the  win- 
ter of  1827  ;  and  Essy  I  had  not  seen  at  all  since  she  was  a  baby.  I  learnt 
from  Cornish  what  I  never  knew  before,  the  especial  ground  of  Keble's 
alienation  from  me;  it  appears  that  he  says  that  "I  do  not  believe  in  the 
Holy  Catholic  Church."  Now  that  I  do  not  believe  in  it  in  Keble's  sense  is 
most  true;  I  would  just  as  soon  worship  Jupiter;  and  Jupiter's  idolatry  is 
scarcely  farther  from  Christianity,  in  my  judgment,  than  the  idolatry  of  the 
Priesthood  ;  but,  as  I  have  a  strong  belief  in  the  Holy  Catholic  Church,  in 
my  sense  of  it,  I  looked  into  Pearson  on  the  Creed,  and  read  through  his 
whole  article  on  the  subject,  which  I  had  not  for  many  years,  to  see  whether 
my  sense  of  it  was  really  different  from  that  of  the  most  approved  writers 
of  our  Church  ;  and  I  found  only  one  line  in  all  Pearson's  article  that  I  should 
not  agree  with,  and  in  his  summing  up  or  paraphrase  of  the  words  of  the 
Creed,  whero  he  says  what  we  should  mean  when  we  say  "  I  believe  in  the 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  385 

Holy  Catholic  Church,"  I  agree  entirely.  I  do  not  say  that  Pearson's 
opinions  on  Church  Government  are  exactly  the  same  as  mine, — I  dare  say 
they  are  not;  but  he  does  not  venture  to  say  that  his  opinions  are  involved 
in  the  words  of  the  Creed,  nor  would  he  have  said  that  a  man  did  not  be- 
lieve in  the  Holy  Catholic  Church,  because  he  did  not  believe  in  Apostolical 
succession.  Meantime,  it  has  been  a  pleasure  to  me  to  find  that  my  Sermons 
on  Prophecy  have  given  no  offence  to  the  Newmanites,  but  rather  have  con- 
ciliated them,  as  far  as  they  go,  which  was  one  of  my  main  objects  in  pub- 
lishing them.  I  am  afraid  that  I  cannot  expect  the  same  toleration  to  be 
extended  to  the  new  volume  of  my  Sermons  which  is  going  to  be  published  ; 
for,  although  they  are  not  controversial,  yet,  as  embracing  a  great  many 
points,  they  cannot  avoid  collision  with  those  whose  opinions  are  the  very 
opposite  to  mine,  nor  should  I  think  it  right  to  leave  out  every  thing  which 
the  Newmanites  would  object  to,  any  more  than  Newman  would  think  it 
right  to  omit  in  his  sermons  all  that  I  should  object  to.  Yet  I  still  hope 
that  the  volume  will  give  no  unnecessary  offence  even  to  those  from  whom 
I  differ  most  widely. 


CCLXII.      TO    W.    BALSTON,    ESQ.. 

(On  the  death  of  his  son.) 

January,  1841. 

Miss  H 's  great  kindness  has  given  us  constant  infor- 
mation of  the  state  of  your  son  Henry ;  and  I  was  happy  to  find  that  so 
many  of  his  brothers  were  with  him.  I.  believe  that  I  am  much  more  dis- 
posed to  congratulate  you  on  his  account  than  to  condole  with  you ;  at  least, 
as  the  father  of  five  sons,  I  feel  that  nothing  could  make  me  so  happy  for  any 
of  them  as  to  be  satisfied  that  they  were  so  loved  by  God,  and  so  fashioned 
by  His  Spirit  to  a  fitness  for  his  kingdom,  as  is  the  case  with  your  dear  son 
Henry. 


CCLXIII.      TO    REV.    TREVENEN    PENROSE. 

Fox  How,  January  6,  1841. 

We  have  received  from  Miss  H a  long  account  of  the 

last  days  of  H.  Balston's  life,  and  I  never  read  any  thing  more  beautiful. 
He  seemed  to  be  aware  of  the  coming  of  death,  step  by  step ;  and  some  of 
his  expressions  at  the  very  last  seem  more  strikingly  to  connect  this  present 
existence  with  another  than  any  thing  I  eve*1  heard.  He  actually  laid  him- 
self down  to  die  in  a  particular  posture,  as  a  man  lays  himself  down  to 
sleep,  and  even  so  he  did  die.     His  state  of  mind  was  quite  heavenly. 

We  are  enjoying  this  place  as  usual,  though  I  am  obliged  to  work  very 
hard,  with  my  history  and  letters.  The  History  is  intensely  interesting,  and 
I  feel  to  regard  it  more  and  more  with  something  of  an  artist's  feeling  as  to 
the  composition  and  arrangement  of  it  ;  points  on  which  the  ancients  laid 
great  stress,  and  I  now  think  very  rightly.  I  find  constantly  the  great  use 
of  my  many  foreign  journeys,  for  though  I  have  no  good  maps  here,  yet  I 
am  getting  on  with  Hannibal's  march  from  personal  recollections  of  the 
country,  which  I  think  will  give  an  air  of  reality  to  the  narrative  greater 
than  it  ever  could  have  from  maps.  Twelve  o'clock  strikes,  and  I  must  go 
to  bed. 


386  LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


CCLXIV.      fTO    REV.    T.    J.    ORMEROD. 

Fox  How,  January  3,  1841. 

It  is  very  delightful  to  be  here,  and  our  weather  till  to-day 

has  been  beautiful.  I  sit  at  the  window  with  my  books  on  the  sofa  around 
me,  and  my  Epicurean  wish  would  be  to  live  here  in  quiet,  writing  and 
reading  and  rambling  about  on  Loughrigg,  more  beautiful  than  Epicurus's 
garden.  But  my  reasonable  wishes  turn  to  the  work  at  Rugby,  as  a  far 
better  employment,  so  long  as  my  health  and  strength  are  spared  me. 

Poor  Southey's  state  is  most  pitiable,  his  mind  is  quite  gone.  There  ia 
something  very  touching  in  this  end  of  so  much  mental  activity,  but  there  is 
no  painful  feeling  of  morbid  restlessness  in  his  former  activity, — he  worked 
quietly  though  constantly,  and  his  faculties  seem  gently  to  have  sunk  asleep, 
his  body  having  outlived  them,  but  in  such  a  state  of  weakness  as  to  give  sign 
that  it  will  soon  follow  them.  Wordsworth  is  in  body  and  mind  still  sound 
and  vigorous ;  it  is  beautiful  to  see  and  hear  him. 


CCLXV.      TO    W.    W.    HULL,    ESQ. 

Fox  How,  January  15,  1841. 

". I  was  umvell  before  the  holidays,  and  although  I  soon 

recovered,  yet  I  was  very  glad  to  come  down  here  and  get  some  rest.  And 
the  rest  of  this  place  in  winter  is  complete,  every  thing  so  quiet,  with  only 
our  immediate  neighbours,  all  kind  and  neighbourly.  Wordsworth  is  re- 
markably well,  and  we  see  him  daily ;  and  moreover,  Rydal  Lake  is  frozen 
as  hard  as  a  rock,  and  my  nine  children,  and  I  with  them,  were  all  over  it 
to-day,  to  our  great  delight.  Four  of  my  boys  skait.  Walter  is  trundled  in 
his  wheelbarrow,  and  my  daughters  and  I  slide,  for  I  am  afraid  that  I  am  too 
old  to  learn  to  skait  now.     My  wife  walks  to  Ambleside  to  get  the  letters, 

and  then  goes  round  to  meet  us  as  we  come  from  the  Lake 

When  I  am  here,  it  does  make  me  sadly  yearn  for  the  time  when  I  may  live 
here  steadily,  if  I  am  alive  at  all.  Yet  I  do  not  suppose  that  I  should  ever 
be  able  to  get  an  income  to  retire  upon,  equal  to  what  yours  is ;  but,  if  my 
boys  were  once  educated,  I  think  I  should  come  down  here  without  more 
delay.  As  for  poor  little  Walter,  I  do  not  think  that  I  should  ever  be  able 
to  wait  at  Rugby  for  him,  so  I  do  not  know  what  he  will  do.  Your  boys, 
however,  are  so  much  older  than  he  is,  that  your  difficulty  would  be  over 
much  before  mine ;  and  depend  upon   it  that  the   comfort  of  an   income 

already  secured  is  great,  when  a  man  feels  at  all  unwell but 

all  this  is  in  wiser  and  better  hands  than  ours,  and  our  care  has  enough  to 
think  of  in  those  nearer  concerns  which  may  not  be  neglected  without  worse 
fault  than  imprudence,  and  worse  mischief  than  a  narrow  income. 


CCLXVI.      TO    REV.    J.    HEARN. 

Fox  How,  January  25,  1841. 

I  had  hoped  to  write  to  you  at  any  rate  before  we  left  Fox  How,  and  now 
your  kind  and  long  letter  gives  you  a  stronger  claim  on  me.  You  have  also 
been  so  kind  as  to  wish  my  wife  and  myself  to  be  sponsors  for  your  little  boy; 
and  we  can  have  only  one  scruple  in  becoming  so,  lest  we  should  stand  in 
the  way  of  other  friends  of  yours,  and  particularly  of  Mrs.  Hearn's,  who 
may  be  better  known  to  your  children  than  we  can  expect  to  be  in  the  com- 
mon course  of  things,  as  our  life,  in  all  human  probability,  will  be  passed 
between  Warwickshire  and  Westmoreland.  Otherwise  we  should  accept 
with  great  gleasure  so  sure  a  mark  of  your  confidence  and  friendship. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  387 

We  have  been  here  almost  six  weeks,  in  perfect  rest  as  far  as  this  place 
is  concerned,  but  I  have  had  a  very  troublesome  correspondence  about  school 
matters,  which  has  brought  Rugby  more  before«my  mind  than  I  wish  to  have 
it  in  the  holidays.  I  hope  that  this  is  not  indolence,  but  I  feel  it  very  desira- 
ble, if  I  can,  to  get  my  mind  thoroughly  refreshed  and  diverted  during  the 
vacations ; — ':  diverted,"  I  mean  in  the  etymological  rather  than  in  the  popu- 
lar sense,  that  is,  turned  aside  from  its  habitual  objects  of  interest  to  others 
which  refresh  from  their  very  variety.  Thus  my  History  is  a  great  diversion 
from  the  cares  about  the  school,  and  then  the  school  work  in  its  turn  is  a 
diversion  from  the  thoughts  about  the  History.  Otherwise  either  would  be 
rather  overpowering,  for  the  History,  though  very  interesting,  is  a  considera- 
ble engrosser  of  one's  thoughts ;  there  is  so  much  difficulty  in  the  composi- 
tion ot  it,  as  well  as  in  the  investigation  of  the  facts.  I  have  just  finished 
Cannae,  and  do  not  expect  to  do  much  more  these  holidays. 

We  hope  to  be  at  Laleham  on  Saturday,  and  to  stay  there  till  Wednes- 
day ;  thence  we  go  to  Oxford,  and  finally  return  to  Rugby  on  Friday,  Feb- 
ruary 5.  There  are  other  subjects  which  will  require  a  good  deal  of  atten- 
tion, just  coming  upon  me.  I  am  appointed,  with  Dr.  Peacock,  Dean  of  Ely.  to 
draw  up  a  Charter  for  the  proposed  College  in  Van  Diemen's  Land,  which 
will  again  force  me  upon  the  question  of  religious  instruction  without  exclu- 
sion, one  of  the  hardest  of  all  problems.  In  all  British  colonies,  it  is  manifest 
that  the  Scotch  Church  has  exactly  equal  rights  with  the  English, — equal 
rights  even  legally — and  I  think,  considering  Ireland,  that  the  Roman 
Church  has  equal  rights  morally.  Yet  to  instruct  independently  of  any 
Church,  is  utterly  monstrous,  and  to  teach  for  all  three  Churches  together, 
is,  I  think,  impossible.  I  can  only  conceive  the  plan  of  three  distinct 
branches  of  one  college,  each  sovereign  in  many  respect,  but  in  others  form- 
ing a  common  government.  Then  my  friend  Hull  is  again  stirring  the 
question  of  a  reform  in  our  own  Church,  as  to  some  of  the  Rubrics  and 
parts  of  the  Liturgy ;  and  yet  I  would  not  myself  move  this  question  now, 
yet  agreeing  with  Hull  in  principle,  I  do  not  like  to  decline  bearing  my 
share  of  the  odium  ;  thinking  that  what  many  men  call  "caution"  in  such 
matters,  is  to  often  merely  a  selfish  fear  of  getting  oneself  into  trouble  or  ill- 
will.  I  am  quite  sure  that  I  would  not  gratuitously  court  odium  or  contro- 
versy, but  I  must  be  aware  also  of  too  much  dreading  it ;  and  the  love  of 
ease,  when  a  man  is  past  five-and-forty,  is  likely  to  be  a  more  growing 
temptation  than  the  love  of  notoriety,  or  the  pleasure  of  argument. 

Your  useful  and  happy  life  is  always  an  object  on  which  my  thoughts 
rest  with  unmixed  pleasure ;  a  green  spot  morally  as  well  as  naturally,  yet 
not  the  green  of  the  stagnant  pool,  which  no  life  freshens.  I  love  to  see  the 
freedom  and  manliness  and  fairness  of  your  mind  existing  in  true  combina- 
tion with  holy  and  spiritual  affections.  Why  will  so  many  good  men,  in 
their  theological  and  ecclesiastical  notions,  so  completely  reverse  St.  Paul's 
rule,  showing  themselves  children  in  understanding,  and  men  only  in  the 
vehemence  of  their  passions 


CCLXV1I.      TO    CHEVALIER    BUNSEN. 

Fo\  How,  January  28,  1841. 

.  .  •  •  •  •  I  havie  been  working  at  my  History  pretty  steadily,  and 
have  just  finished  Canna?.  Some  of  our  military  geographers  have  offered 
me  assistance ;  Colonel  Napier  amongst  others ;  but  there  are  points  on 
which  full  satisfaction  appears  to  me  impossible.  I  think  that  both  Flami- 
nius  and  Varro  have  been  maligned,  and  that  the  family  papers  of  the  Scipioa 
and  "  the  Laudatio  M.  Marcelli  a  filio  habita,"  have  falsified  the  history 
grievously.  Gottling  imagines  the  number  of  thirty-five  tribes  to  have  been 
an  idea  of  Flaminius,  and  that  it  was  meant  to  be  final ;  but  he  strangely 


388  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

ascribes  the  addition  of  the  two  last  tribes  to  the  censorship  of  Flaminius, 
whereas  it  preceded  it  nearly  twenty  years.  The  text  of  Polybius  appears  to 
me  in  a  very  unsatisfactory  state,  and  the  reading  of  the  names  of  places  in 
Italy  worth  next  to  nothing.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  my  sense  of  his  merit 
as  an  historian,  becomes  less  and  less  continually  ;  he  is  not  only  "  einseitig," 
but  in  his  very  own  way  he  seems  to  me  to  have  been  greatly  overvalued, 
as  a  military  historian  most  especially;  I  should  like  to  know  what  Niebuhr 
thought  of  him.  Livy's  carelessness  is  most  provoking;  he  gives  different 
accounts  of  the  same  events  in  different  places,  as  he  happened  to  take  up 
different  writers,  and  his  incapability  of  conceiving  any  distinc.t  idea  of  the 
operations  of  a  campaign  is  truly  wonderful.  I  think  that  the  Latin  Colo- 
nies and  Hannibal's  want  of  artillery  and  engineers  saved  Rome.  Samnium 
would  not  rise  effectually,  whilst  its  strongest  fortresses,  Beneventum,  iEser- 
nia,  &c,  were  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  If  the  French  artillery  had  been 
no  better  than  Hannibal's,  and  they  had  had  no  other  arm  to  depend  on  than 
their  cavalry,  I  believe  that  the  Spaniards  by  themselves  would  have  beaten 
them,  for  every  town  would  then  have  been  impregnable,  and  the  Guerillas 
would  have  starved  the  army  out.  Some  of  Hannibal's  faults  reminded  me 
strongly  of  Nelson ;  his  cruelty  to  the  Romans  is  but  too  like  Nelson's  ha- 
tred of  the  Jacobins,  which  led  to  the  disgraceful  tragedy  at  Naples.  The 
"  meretricula  Salapiensis,"  was  his  Lady  Hamilton.  The  interest  of  the 
History  I  find  to  be  very  great,  but  I  cannot  at  all  satisfy  myself;  the  story 
should  be  so  lively,  and  yet  so  rich  in  knowledge,  and  I  can  make  it  neither 
as  I  wish. 

The  year  seems  opening  upon  us  with  more  favourable  prospects ;  there 
is  a  strong  feeling  of  enthusiasm,  I  think,  about  our  successes  in  Syria,  and 
though  I  do  not  sympathize  in  the  quarrel,  and  regret  more  than  1  can  say  the 
alienation  of  France,  yet  the  efficiency  of  the  navy  is  naturally  gratifying  to 
every  Englishman,  and  the  reduction  of  Acre  so  far  is,  I  think,  a  very  bril- 
liant action.  Trade  seems  also  reviving,  although  I  suspect  that  in  many 
markets  you  have  excluded  us  irrevocably.  But  these  respites,  of  which  we 
have  had  so  many,  these  lu  [lings  of  the  storm,  in  which  the  ship  might  be 
righted,  perhaps,  and  the  point  weathered,  seem  doomed  to  be  for  ever  wast- 
ed ;  the  great  evil  remains  uncured,  nay,  unprobed,  and  all  fear  to  touch  it. 
Truly,  the  gathering  of  the  nations  to  battle,  is  more  and  more  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Jerusalem,  not  in  the  sense  in  which  our  fanatics  look  at  the 
war  in  Syria,  as  likely  to  lead  to  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy  in  their  view  of 
it,  but  because  political  questions  more  and  more  show  that  the  Church 
question  lies  at  the  root  of  them — Niebuhr's  true  doctrine,  that  1517  must  pre- 
cede 1688,  and  so  that  for  a  better  than  1688,  there  needs  a  better  than  even 
1517.  Some  of  the  Oxford  men  now  commonly  revile  Luther  as  a  bold  bad 
man ;  how  surely  would  they  have  reviled  Paul ;  how  zealously  would  they 
have  joined  in  stoning  Stephen ;  true  children  of  those  who  slew  the  pro- 
phets, not  the  less  so  because  they  with  idolatrous  reverence  build  their  sep- 
ulchres. But  I  must  stop,  for  the  sun  is  shining  on  the  valley,  now  quite 
cleared  of-  snow,  and  I  must  go  round  and  take  a  farewell  look  at-the  trees 
and  the  river,  and  the  mountains;  ere  "feror  exul  in  altum,"  into  the  wide 
and  troubled  sea  of  life's  business,  from  which  4hisis  so  sweet  a  haven.  But 
"  Rise,  let  us  be  going,"  is  a  solemn  call,  which  should  for  ever  reconcile 
us  to  break  off  our  luxurious  sleep.  May  God  bless  us  both  in  all  our  ways 
outward  and  inward,  through  Jesus  Christ. 


CCLXVIII.      *  TO    REV.    A.    P.    STANLEY. 

Rugby,  March  8,  1841. 

I  was  much  struck  by  what  you  say  of  Constantinople 

being  the  point  to  which  the  hopes  of  Greeks  are  turning,  rather  than  to 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  389 

Athens  or  Sparta.  I  can  well  believe  it.  but  it  makes  the  tirades  of  many 
Philo-Hellenians  very'  ridiculous,  and  it  should  moderate  our  zeal  in  trying 
to  revive  classical  antiquity.  It  curiously  confirms  what  I  said  in  the  ser- 
mons on  Prophecy,  that  "  Christian  Athens  was  divided  by  one  deep  and 
impassable  chasm  from  the  Heathen  Athens  of  old."  And  we  do  not  enough 
allow  for  the  long  duration  of  the  Byzantine  empire, — more  than  eleven  hun- 
dred years. — a  period  how  far  longer  than  the  whole  of  English  History  !  But, 
however,  I  must  turn  from  Greece  to  Italy,  and  now  that  you  are  in  genuine 
Italy,  (which  you  were  not  before,  except  in  the  short  distance  between 
Rimini  and  Ancona,  for  Cisalpine  Gaul  has  no  pretensions  to  the  name,) 
I  hope  that  you  feel  its  beauty  to  be  more  akin  to  that  of  Greece.  I  have 
always  felt  in  the  Apennines  that  same  charm  which  you  speak  of  in  the 
mountains  of  Greece :  the  "  rosea  rura  Velini,"  between  Rieti  and  Terni, 
are  surrounded  by  forms  of  almost  unearthly  beauty.  I  have  no  deeper  im- 
pression of  any  scene  than  of  that,  and  when  I  was  in  that  very  rich  and 
beautiful  country  between  Como  and  Lugano,  I  kept  asking  of  myself,  why 
I  so  infinitely  preferred  the  Apennine  to  the  Alpine  valleys.  Naples  itself 
is  the  only  very  beautiful  spot  which  a  little  disappointed  me;  but  the  clouds 
hung  heavily  and  coldly  over  the  Sorrento  mountains,  and  Vesuvius  gave 
forth  no  smoke,  so  that  the  peculiar  character  of  the  scene,  both  in  its  splen- 
dour and  in  its  solemnity,  was  wanting.  My  wife  was  half  wild  with  Mola 
di  Gaeta,  and  indeed  I  know  not  what  can  surpass  it.  There,  too,  the  re- 
mains of  the  villas,  '.'jactis  in  altum  molibus,"  spoke  loudly  of  the  Roman 
times ;  and  from  Mola  to  Capua,  the  delighfulness  of  every  thing  was  to  me 
perfect.  My  own  plans  for  the  summer  are  very  uncertain ;  we  have  an 
additional  week,  which  of  course  tempts  me,  and  I  did  think  of  going  to 
Corfu,  and  of  trying  to  get  to  Durazzo,  where  Caesar's  Lines  attract  me 
greatly,  but  I  am  half  afraid  both  of  the  climate  and  quarantine,  and  want 
to  consult  you  about  it,  if,  as  I  hope,  we  shall  see  you  before  the  end  of  the 
half-year.  Spain  again,  and  the  neighbourhood  of  Lerida,  is,  I  fear,  out  of 
the  question ;  so  that,  if  I  do  go  abroad,  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  I  again 
visited  Italy. 

I  suppose  that  by  this  time  your  thoughts  are  again  accommodating  them- 
selves to  the  position  of  English  and  of  Oxford  life,  after  so  many  months 
of  a  sort  of  cosmopolitism.  I  am  afraid  that  war  is  becoming  less  and  less 
an  impossibility,  and,  if  we  get  reconciled  to  the  notion  of  it  as  a  thing  which 
may  be,  our  passions.  I  am  afraid,  will  soon  make   it  a  thing  that  will  be. 

My  own  desire  of  going  to  Oxford   was,  as  you  know,  long 

cherished  and  strong,  but  it  is  quenched  now ;  I  could  not  go  to  a  place 
where  I  once  lived  so  happily  and  peaceably,  and  gained  so  much, — to  feel 
either  constant  and  active  enmity  to  the  prevailing  party  in  it, — or  else,  by 
use  and  personal  humanities,  to  become  first  tolerant  of  such  monstrous  evil, 
and  then  perhaps  learn  to  sympathize  with  it. 


CCLXIX.      *TO    J.    P.    GELL,    ESQ. 

Rugby,  March  3,  1841. 

There  is  really  something  formidable  in  writing  a  letter  to  Van  Diemen's 
Land.  You  must  naturally  delight  in  hearing  from  England,  and  I  should 
wish  to  give  you  some  evidence  that  you  are  not  forgotten  by  your  friends 
at  Rugby;  yet  how  to  fill  a  sheet  with  facts  I  know  not ;  for  great  events  are 
happily  as  rare  with  us  as  they  used  to  be,  and  the  little  events  of  our  life 
here,  the  scene,  and  the  actors,  are  all  as  well  knoAvn  to  you  as  to  ourselves  ; 
in  this  respect  contrasting  strangely  with  our  entire  ignorance  of  the  scene 
and  nature  of  your  life  in  Van  Diemen's  Land,  where  every  acre  of  ground 
would  be  to  me  full  of  a  thousand  novelties  ;  perhaps  the  acres  in  the  towns 
not  the  least  so.     Again,  the  gigantic  scale  of  your  travelling  quite  dwarfs 


390 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


our  little  summer  excursions.  If  I  were  writing  to  a  man  buried  in  a  coun- 
try parsonage,  I  could  expatiate  on  our  delightful  tour  of  last  summer,  when 
my  wife,  Mayor,  and  myself,  went  together  to  Rome,  Naples,  and  the  heart 
of  the  Abruzzi.  But  your  journal  of  your  voyage,  and  the  consciousness 
that  you  are  at  our  very  antipodes,  with  declining  summer  instead  of  coming 
spring,  at  the  beginning  of  your  short  half-year,  while  we  are  beginning  our 
long  one  ;  this  makes  me  unwilling  to  talk  to  you  about  a  mere  excursion  to 
Italy. 

We  have  been  re-assembled  here  for  nearly  four  months  ;  locking  up  is 
at  half  past  six,  callings  over  at  three  and  five,  first  lesson  at  seven.  I  am 
writing  in  the  library  at  Fourth  lesson,  on  a  Wednesday,  sitting  in  that  un- 
dignified kitchen  chair,  which  you  so  well  remember,  at  that  little  table,  a 
just  proportional  to  the  tables  of  the  Sixth  themselves,  at  which  you  have 
so  often  seen  me  writing  in  years  past.  And,  as  the  light  is  scarcely  bright 
enough  to  show  the  increased  number  of  my  gray  hairs,  you  might,  if  you 
looked  in  upon  us,  fancy  that  time  had  ceased  to  run,  and  that  we  are  the 
identical  thirty-one  or  more  persons  who  sat  in  the  same  place,  at  the  same 
hour  and  eno-aged  in  the  very  same  work  when  you  were  one  of  them. 
The 'School  ts  very  full,  about  330  boys  in  all,  quiet  and  well  disposed,  I 
believe  $  but  enough,  as  there  will  always  be,  to  excite  anxiety,  and  quite 
enough  to  temper  vanity. 

My  wife,  thank  God,  is  very  well,  and  goes  out  on  the 

pony  regularly,  as  usual.  We  went  to-day  as  far  as  the  turnpike  on  the 
Dunchurch  Road,  then  round  by  Deadman's  Corner,  to  Bilton,  and  so  home. 
Hoskyns,  who  is  Sandford's  curate,  at  Dunchurch,  walked  with  us  as  far  as 
the  turnpike.  The  day  was  bright  and  beautiful,  with  gleams  of  sun,  but 
no  frost.  You  can  conceive  the  buds  swelling  on  the  wild  roses  and  haw- 
thorns, and  the  pussy  catkins  of  the  willows  are  very  soft  and  mouse-like; 
their  yellow  anthers  have  not  yet  shown  themselves.  The  felling  of  trees 
goes  on  largely,  as  usual,  and  many  an  old  wild  and  tangled  hedge,  with  its 
mossy  banks,  presents  at  this  moment  a  scraped  black  bank  below,  and  a 
cut  and  stiff  fence  of  stakes  above ;  one  of  the  minor  griefs  which  have 
beset  my  Rugby  walks  for  the  last  twelve  years  at  this  season  of  the  year. 

Of  things  Tn  general  I  know  not  what  to  say.  The  country  is  in  a  state 
of  much  political  apathy,  and  therefore  Toryism  flourishes  as  a  matter  of 
course,  and  commercial  speculation  goes  on  vigorously.  Reform  of  all 
sorts,  down  to  Talfourd's  Copyright  Bill,  seems  adjourned  sine  die  ;  where- 
fore evil  of  all  sorts  keeps  running  up  its  account,  and  Chartism,  I  suppose, 
rejoices.  The  clergy  are  becoming  more  and  more  Newmanite, — Evangel- 
icalism being  swallowed  up  more  and  more  by  the  stronger  spell,  as  all  the 
minor  diseases  merged  in  the  plague  in  the  pestilential  time  of  the  second 
year  of  the  Peloponnesian  war.  Yet  one  very  good  bill  has  been  brought 
into  parliament  by  the  Government,  for  the  better  drainage  and  freer  room 
of  the  dwellings  of  the  poor  in  large  towns,  and  some  of  the  master  manu- 
facturers are  considering  that  their  workmen  have  something  else  besides 
hands  belonging  to  them,  and  are  beginning  to  attend  to  the  welfare  of  that 
something.  If  reform  of  this  sort  spreads  amongst  a  class  of  men  so  impor- 
tant, I  can  forgive  much  political  apathy.  Whether  that  unlucky  eastern 
question  will  prove  in  the  end  the  occasion  of  another  general  war,  no  man 
can  tell ;  but  1  fear  the  full  confidence  of  peace  is  gone,  and  men  no  longer 
look  upon  war  as  impossible,  as  they  did  twelve  months  since.  God  bless 
you,  my  dear  Gell,  and  prosper  all  your  work.  Remember  me  very  kindly 
to  Sir  John  and  Lady  Franklin. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  391 


CCLXX.       TO    SIR    JOHN    FRANKLIN,    K.C.B. 

Rugby,  March  16,  1841. 

I  ought  not  to  have  left  your  kind  letter  so  long  unanswered  ;  but  I  have 
not,  I  trust,  neglected  its  main  business,  although  I  cannot  report  any  satis- 
factory progress,  for  I  know  not  in  what  state  the  question  now  is,  and  I 
have  been  this  very  day  writing  to  Mr.  Stephen,  to  ask  what  they  are  about, 
and  whether  I  can  be  of  any  further  service. 

My  whole  feelings  go  along  with  Gell's  wishes,  but  I  do  not  think  that 
they  ought  to  be  indulged.  It  is  a  great  happiness  to  live  in  a  country 
where  there  is  only  one  Church  to  be  considered  either  in  law  or  in  equity ; 
then  all  institutions  can  take  a  simple  and  definite  character ;  the  schools 
and  the  Church  can  be  identified,  and  the  teaching  in  the  school-room  and 
in  the  Church  may  breathe  the  same  spirit,  and  differ  only  so  far  as  the  one 
is  addressed  to  adults,  the  other  to  children.  All  this  no  one  can  love  more 
than  I  do.  I  have  the  Bishop's  license  :  we  have  our  School  Chapel,  where 
the  Church  service  is  duly  performed  ;  I  preach  in  it  as  a  Minister  of  the 
Church,  and  the  Bishop  comes  over  every  two  years  to  confirm  our  boys  in 
it.  I  quite  allow  that  my  position  is  that  which  suits  my  taste,  my  feelings, 
and  my  reason,  most,  entirely. 

But  if  I  were  in  Gell's  place,  as  in  many  other  respects  I  could  not  ex- 
pect all  the  advantages  of  England,  so  neither  could  I  in  this  identification 
of  my  school  with  my  Church.  In  a  British  colony  there  are  other  elements 
than  those  purely  English ;  they  are  involved,  I  think,  in  the  very  word. 
u  British,"  which  is  used  in  speaking  of  our  colonies.  Here,  in  England, 
we  Englishmen  are  sole  masters, — in  our  colonies  we  are  only  joint  masters; 
and  I  cannot,  without  direct  injustice,  make  the  half  right  as  extensive  as 
the  whole  right. 

But  whilst  I  quite  acknowledge  the  equal  rights  of  the  Church  of  Scot- 
land, I  acknowledge  no  right  in  any  third  system, — for  a  Church  it  cannot 
be  called, — to  be  dominant  both  over  the  Church  of  Scotland  and  over  us. 
I  would  allow  no  third  power  or  principle  to  say  to  both  Churches,  "  Neither 
of  you  shall  train  your  people  in  your  own  way,  but  in  a  certain  third  way, 
which,  as  it  is  that  of  neither,  may  perhaps  suit  both."  I  would  have  the 
two  Churches  stand  side  by  side, — each  free  and  each  sovereign  over  its 
own  people;  but  I  do  not  approve  of  such  a  fusion  of  the  one  into  the  other, 
as  would  produce  a  third  substance,  unlike  either  of  them. 

Now,  I  confess  that  what  I  should  like  best  of  all,  would  be  to  see  two 
colleges  founded,  one  an  English  college,  and  the  other  a  Scotch  college, 
each  giving  its  own  Degrees  in  Divinity,  but  those  Degrees  following  the 
Degrees  in  Arts,  which  should  be  given  by  both  as  a  University.  Each 
college  possessing  full  independence  within  itself,  the  education  of  the  mem- 
bers of  each  would  in  all  respects  be  according  to  their  respective  Churches, 
while  the  University  authorities^  chosen  equally  from  each,  would  only  set- 
tle such  points  as  could  harmoniously  be  settled  by  persons  belonging  to 
different  Churches. 

This,  I  think,  would  be  my  beau  ideal  for  Van  Diemen's  Land ;  and  that 
the  English  college  would  quickly  outgrow  the  Scotch  college, — that  it 
would  receive  richer  endowments  from  private  munificence, — that  it  would 
have  more  pupils,  and  abler  tutors  or  professors,  I  do  not  doubt.  But  that 
would  be  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  and  justice  would  have  been  done 
to  the  rights  of  Scotland  as  a  member  of  the  United  Kingdom. 

The  decisive  objection  to  this,  I  suppose,  would  be  the  expense.  You 
can  have  only  one  college,  and  I  suppose  may  be  thankful  even  for  that. 
What  is  next  best,  then,  as  it  appears  to  me,  is  still  to  provide  for  the  equal, 
but  at  the  same  time  the  free  and  sovereign  and  fully  developed  action  of 
both  Churches  within  the  same  college,  by  the  appointment  of  two  clergy- 

1  With  regard  to  the  College  in  Van  Diemen's  Land.     See  Letter  cclxvi. 


392  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

men,  the  one  of  the  English,  the  other  of  the  Scotch  Church,  as  necessary 
members  of  the  college  always,  with  the  title  of  Dean,  or  such  other  as  may 
be  thought  expedient,  such  Deans  having  the  direct  charge  of  the  religious 
instruction  generally  of  their  own  people  ;  the  Dean  of  that  Church  to  which 
the  Principal  for  the  time  being  does  not  belong,  being  to  his  own  people  in 
all  religious  matters  both  Principal  and  Dean,  but  the  Dean  of  whose  Church 
the  Principal  is  a  member,  acting  under  the  superintendence  of  the  Princi- 
pal, and  the  Principal  himself  taking  a  direct  part  in  the  religious  teaching 
of  the  students  of  his  own  communion. 

It  might  be  possible  and  desirable  to  put  the  office  of  Principal  altogether 
in  commission,  and  vest  it  in  a  board  of  which  the  two  Deans  should  be  ex 
officio  members,  and  three  other  persons,  or  one,  as  it  might  be  thought  fit. 
Local  knowledge  is  required  to  decide  the  details, — but  in  this  way,  if  Gell 
were  English  Dean,  his  power  and  importance  might  be  equal  to  what  they 
would  be  as  Principal ;  and  his  position  might  be  at  once  less  invidious,  and 
yet  more  entirely  free  and  influential. 

This  solution  of  the  difficulty  had  not  suggested  itself  to  me  before,  but  I 
give  it  for  what  it  may  be  worth.  I  believe  that  I  see  clearly,  and  hold  fast 
the  principles  on  which  your  college  should  be  founded ;  but  different  ways 
of  working  these  principles  out  may  suggest  themselves  at  different  times, 
and  none  of  them  perhaps  will  suit  your  circumstances ;  for  it  is  in  the  ap- 
plication of  general  principles  to  any  given  place  or  condition  of  things,  that 
practical  knowledge  of  that  particular  state  of  things  is  needful,  which  I 
cannot  have  in  the  present  case.  Still  the  conclusions  of  our  local  observa- 
tion must  not  drive  us  to  overset  general  principles,  or  to  neglect  them,  for 
that  is  no  less  an  error. 


CCLXXI.       TO    THE    SAME. 

Rugby,  April  4,  1842. 

Your  letter  of  the  18th  of  August  quite  coincides  with  my  wishes,  and 
satisfies   me   also  that   I    may,  without  injustice,  act  according   to   them. 

And  I  am  happy  to  say  that seems  quite  disposed  to 

"agree  with  your  view  of  the  subject,  and  to  make  it  a  standing  rule  of  the 
College,  that  the  Principal  of  it  shall  always  be  a  member  of  the  Church  of 
England,  if  not  a  clergyman.  My  own  belief  is,  that  our  Colleges  of  Oxford 
and  Cambridge  are,  with  'all  their  faults,  the  best  institutions  of  the  kind  in 
the  world, — at  least  for  Englishmen ;  and  therefore  I  should  wish  to  copy 
them  exactly,  if  it  were  possible,  for  Van  Diemen's  Land.  I  only  doubted 
whether  it  were  just  to  Scotland  to  give  a  predominantly  English  character 
to  the  institutions  of  a  British  colony ;  but  your  argument  from  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  English  law  is,  I  think,  a  good  one,  and  mixed  institutions 
are  to  my  mind  so  undesirable,  that  I  would  rather  have  the  College  Scotch 
altogether,  so  far  as  my  own  taste  is  concerned,  than  that  it  should  repre- 
sent no  Church  at  all.  I  have  always  wished,  and  I  wish  it  still,  that  the 
bases  of  our  own,  as  of  other  Churches,  should-be  made  wider  than  they  are ; 
but  the  enlargement,  to  my  mind,  should  be  there,  and  not  in  the  schools : 
for  it  seems  a  solecism  to  me.  that  the  place  of  education  for  the  members 
of  a  Church  should  not  teach  according  to  that  Church,  without  suppressions 
of  any  sort  for  the  sake  of  accommodating  others. 

As  to  the  other  point, — of  there  being  always  an  English  and  Scotch 

clergyman  amongst  the  Fellows  of  the  College, took  your  view  of  the 

case,  and  I  yielded  to  him But,  though  I  do  not  like  to 

urge  any  thing  against  your  judgment,  yet  I  should  like  to  explain  to  you 
my  view  of  the  case.  I  wish  to  secure  to  members  of  the  Scotch  Church 
the  education  of  their  own  Church, — I  mean  an  education  such  as  their  own 
Church  would  wish  them  to  have, — just  as  I  wish  to  secure  for  our  people 


LIFE  OP   DR.  ARNOLD. 


393 


a  full  Church  of  England  education.  Then,  on  the  other  hand,  I  am  not 
afraid  of  sectarian  feelings  and  struggles,  where  men  live  together,  each 
with  a  distinct  recognized  position  of  his  own,  and  with  his  own  proper  work 
assigned  to  him.  I  dread  much  more  the  effect  of  differences  not  publicly 
recognized,  such  as  those  of  parties  within  the  same  Church.  If  Roman 
Catholics,  as  such,  had  a  college  of  their  own  at  Oxford,  I  do  not  believe 
that  there  would  be  half  the  disputing  or  proselytizing  which  exists  now, 
where  Roman  Catholic  opinions  are  held  by  men  calling  themselves  mem- 
bers of  our  Church.  A  Scotch  clergyman  has  to  do  with  Scotchmen,  as 
English  clergyman  with  Englishmen.  The  national  distinction  would  make 
the  ecclesiastical  difference  natural,  as  I  think,  and  would  take  away  from 
it  every  thing  of  hostility.  But,  however,  as  I  said  before,  I  should  have 
the  greatest  objection  to  pressing  a  point  against  your  judgment.  I  grieve 
over  the  difficulty  about  the  name  of  the  College :  it  seems  to  me  not  a  little 
matter ;  and  how  sadly  does  that  foolish  notion  of  its  being  profane,  help 
the  superstition  to  which  it  professes  to  be  most  opposed, — the  superstition 
of  holy  places,  and  holy  things,  and  holy  times.  But  your  leaving  the  ques- 
tion to  the  Government  seems  quite  the  wisest  way  of  settling  it.1 


CCLXXIi.      TO    REV.    TREVENEN    PENROSE. 

(Who  had  asked  him  his  opinion  about  sanctioning  various  Provident  Societies  by  preaching  sermoni 

on  their  anniversaries.) 

Rugby,  April  10,  1841. 

My  opinion  on  such  points  as  you  have  proposed  to  me,  is  not  worth  the 
fiftieth  part  of  yours,  so  totally  am  I  without  the  needful  experience.  But 
speaking  as  an  ISiutij^  I  am  inclined  quite  to  agree  with  you.  These  half 
heathen  clubs,  including,  above  all,  Free  Masonry,  are,  I  think,  utterly  un- 
lawful for  a  Christian  man  :  they  are  close  brotherhoods,  formed  with  those 
who  are  not  in  a  close  sense  our  brethren.  You  would  do  a  great,  service, 
if  by  your  sermons,  aided  by  your  personal  influence,  you  could -give  the 
clubs  a  Christian  character.  But  their  very  names  are  unseemly.  A  club 
of  Odd  Fellows  is  a  good  joke,  but  hardly  a  decent  piece  of  earnest.  I  sus- 
pect, however,  that  the  Government  plans  are  too  purely  economical :  an 
annual  dinner  is  so  much  the  usage  of  all  English  societies,  that  it  seeme 
hard  to  deny  it  to  the  poor. 


CCLXXIIl.      *   TO    REV.    T.   J.    ORMEROD. 

Fox  How,  June  19,  1841. 

I  think  that  it  is  very  desirable  to  show  the  connexion  of  the 

Church  with  the  Synagogue,  a  point  on  which  Whately  insists  strongly.  I 
should  also  like  to  go  into  the  question  as  to  the  dii/Tioou  diatdi-fK;  rwv  ano- 
ax6U)v,  mentioned  in  that  famous  fragment  of  Irenaeus.  That  the  Church 
system,  or  rather  the  Priest  system,  is  not  to  be  found  in  Scripture,  is  as 
certain  as  that  the  worship  of  Jupiter  is  not  the  doctrine  of  the  Gospel :  the 
only  shadow  of  an  apostolical  origin  of  it  rests  on  the  notion,  that  after  the 
destruction  of  Jerusalem,  the  surviving  Apostles  altered  the  earlier  Christian 
service,  and  made  the  Eucharist  answer  to  the  sacrifice  of  the  Temple.  I 
believe  this  to  be  unsupported  as  to  its  historical  basis,  and  perverted  doc- 
trinally :  if  there  be  any  foundation  for  the  fact,  it  was  not  that  the  Eucha- 
rist was  to  succeed  to.the  Temple  sacrifices, — one  carnal  sacrifice,_and  carnal 

1  This  letter  is,  for  the  6ake  of  convenience,  transposed  to  this  place  from  its  proper 
order. 

26 


394 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


priest  succeeding  to  another;— but  that  the  spiritual  sacrifice  of  each  man's 
self  to  God,  connected  always,  according  to  Bunsen,  with  the  commemora- 
tion of  Christ's  sacrifice  in  the  Eucharist,  was  now  visibly  the  only  sacrifice 
any  where  offered  to  God ;  and  thus,  as  was  foretold,  the  carnal  worship  had 
utterly  perished,  and  the  spiritual  worship  was  established  in  its  room  That 
the  great  Enemy  should  have  turned  his  very  defeat  into  his  greatest  vic- 
tory, and  have  converted  the  spiritual  self-sacrifice  in  which  each  man  was 
his  own  priest,  into  the  carnal  and  lying  sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  is  to  my  mind, 
more  than  any  thing  else,  the  exact  fulfilment  of  the  apostolical  language 
concerning  Antichrist. 


CCLXXIV.      TO    MR.  JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Fox  How,  June  26, 1841. 

Thank  you  for  your  letter,  and  your  remarks  on  my  In- 
troduction. You  speak  of  yourself  as  standing  halfway  between  Newman 
and  me  ;  but  I  do  not  think  that  you  will  or  can  maintain  that  position.  For 
many  years  such  a  middle  position  was  in  fact  that  of  the  majority  of  the 
English  clergy ;  it  was  the  old  form  of  High  Churchism,  retaining  much  of 
Protestantism,  and  uniting  it  with  other  notions,  such  as  Apostolical  Succes- 
sion, for  which  it  had  an  instinctive  fondness,  but  which  it  cherished  indis- 
tinctly, without  pushing  them  to  their  consequences.  Newman — and  I  thank 
him  for  it — has  broken  up  this  middle  state,  by  pushing  the  doctrines  of  the 
Succession,  &c,  to  their  legitimate  consequences  ;  and  it  appears  now  that 
they  are  inconsistent  with  Protestantism  ;  and  Newman  and  his  friends  re- 
pudiate the  very  name  of  Protestant,  disclaim  the  sole  supremacy  of  Scrip- 
ture, and  in  short  hold  every  essential  tenet  of  popery,  though  not  of 
Romanism :  for  they  so  far  agree  with  the  Gallican  Church,  that  they  would 
set  a  General  Council  above  the  Pope ;  but  the  essence  of  Popery,  which  is 
Priesthood,  and  the  mystic  virtue  of  ritual  acts  done  by  a  Priesthood,  they 
clino-  to  as  heartily  as  the  most  vehement  ultramontane  Papists.  Now  that 
the  two  systems  are  set  front  to  front,  I  do  not  think  that  a  middle  course  is 
possible  ;  the  Priest  is  either  Christ  or  Antichrist ;  he  is  either  our  Mediator, 
or  he  is  like  the  man  of  sin  in  God's  temple  ;  the  "  Church  system  "  is  either 
our  Gospel,  and  St.  John's  and  St.  Paul's  Gospel  is  superseded  by  it,  or  it  is 
a  system  of  blasphemous  falsehood,  such  as  St.  Paul  foretold  was  to  come, 
such  as  St.  John  saw  to  be  "  already  in  the  world." 

I  think  that  you  have  not  quite  attended  to  my  argument  in  the  introduc- 
tion, when  you  seem  to  think  that  I  have  treated  the  question  more  as  one  of 
a  priori  reasoning,  than  of  Scriptural  evidence.  If  you  look  at  the  paragraph 
beginning  at  the  bottom  of  page  xxix,  you  will  see,  I  think,  that  it  is  most 
fully  acknowledged  to  be  a  question  of  Scriptural  evidence.  It  is  not  my 
fault  if  the  Scriptural  authority  which  the  "  Church  system  "  appeals  to,  is 
an  absolute  nonentity.  The  Newmanite  interpretation  of  nur  Lord's  words, 
"  Do  this  in  remembrance  of  me,"  you  confess  to  have  startled  you.  Surely 
it  may  well  startle  any  man,  for  no  Unitarian-comment  on  the  first  chapter 
of  St.  John  could  possibly  be  more  monstrous.  Now,  in  such  matters,  I  speak 
and  feel  confidently  from  the  habits  of  my  life.  My  business  as  schoolmas- 
ter is  a  constant  exercise  in  the  interpretation  of  language,  in  cases  where 
no  prejudice  can  warp  the  mind  one  way  or  another  ;  and  this  habit  of  in- 
terpretation has  been  constantly  applied  to  the  Scriptures  for  more  than 
twenty  years  ;  for  I  began  the  careful  study  of  the  Epistles  long  before  I 
left  Oxford,  and  have  never  intermitted  it.  I  feel,  therefore,  even  more 
strongly  towards  a  misinterpretation  of  Scripture  than  I  should  towards  a 
misinterpretation  of  Thucydides.  I  know  that  there  are  passages  in  the 
Scriptures  which  ho  man  can  interpret ;  that  there  are  others  of  which  the 
interpretation  is  doubtful ;  others,  again,  where  it  is  probable,  but  far  from 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  395 

certain.  This  I  feel  strongly,  and  in  such  places  I  never  would  speak  other- 
wise than  hesitatingly.  But  this  does  not  hinder  us  from  feeling  absolutely 
certain  in  other  cases :  and  the  Newmanite  interpretation  seems  to  me  to  be 
of  the  same  class  as  the  lowest  Unitarian,  or  as  those  of  the  most  extrava- 
gant fanatics ;  they  are  mere  desperate  shifts  to  get  a  show  of  authority 
from  Scripture,  which  it  is  felt  after  all  the  Scripture  will  not  furnish  ;  for 
the  anxious  endeavour  to  exalt  Tradition  and  Church  authority  to  a  level 
with  the  Scripture,  proves  sufficiently  where  the  real  support  of  the  cause 
is  felt  to  lie ;  for  no  man  would  ever  go  to  Tradition  for  the  support  of  what 
the  Scripture  by  itself  teaches  ;  and  in  all  the  great  discussions  on  the 
Trinitarian  question,  the  battle  has  been  fought  out  of  the  Scripture :  no 
Tradition  is  wanted  to  strengthen  the.  testimony  of  St.  John. 

I  suppose  it  is  that  men's  individual  constitution  of  mind  determines 
ihem  greatly,  when  great  questions  are  brought  to  a  clear  issue.  You  have 
often  accused  me  of  not  enough  valuing  the  Church  of  England, — the  very 
charge  which  I  should  now  be  inclined  to  retort  against  you.  And  in  both 
instances  the  charge  would  have  a  true  foundation.  Viewing  the  Church  ol" 
England  as  connected  with  the  Stuart  Kings,  and  as  opposing  the  "  good  old 
cause,"  I  bear  it  no  affection ;  viewing  it  as  a  great  reformed  institution 
and  as  proclaiming  the  King's  supremacy,  and  utterly  denying  the  binding 
authority  of  General  Councils,  and  the  necessity  of  priestly  mediation,  you 
perhaps  would  feel  less  attached  to  it  than  I  am.  For,  after  all,  those  differ- 
ences in  men's  minds  which  we  express,  when  exemplified  in  English  poli- 
tics, by  the  terms  Whig  and  Tory,  are  very  deep  and  comprehensive,  and  I 
should  much  like  to  be  able  to  discover  a  formula  which  would  express  them 
in  their  most  abstract  shape  ;  they  seem  to  me  to  be  the  great  fundamental 
difference  between  thinking  men  ;  but  yet  it  is  certain  that  each  of  these  two 
great  divisions  of  mankind  apprehends  a  truth  strongly,  and  the  Kingdom 
o(  God  will,  I  suppose,  show  us  the  perfect  reconciling  of  the  truth  held  by 
each.  I  think  that  in  opinion  you  will  probably  draw  more  and  more  towards 
Keble,  and  be  removed  farther  and  farther  from  me  ;  but  I  have  a  most  en- 
tire confidence  that  this,  in  our  case,  will  not  affect  our  mutual  friendship, 
as,  to  my  grief  unspeakable,  it  has  between  old  Keble  and  me  ;  because  I. 
do  not  think  that  you  will  ever  lose  the  consciousness  of  the  fact,  that  the 
two  great  divisions  of  which  1  spoke  are  certainly  not  synonymous  with  the 
division  between  good  and  evil ;  that  some  of  the  best  and  wisest  of  mortal 
men  are  to  be  found  with  each  ;  nay,  that  He  who  is  our  perfect  example, 
unites  in  Himself  and  sanctions  the  truths  most  loved,  and  the  spirit  most 
sympathized  in  by  each  ;  wherefore,  I  do  not  think  that  either  is  justified  in 
denouncing  the  other  altogether,  or  renouncing  friendship  with  it.  I  have 
run  on  to  an  enormous  length,  but  your  letter  rather  moved  me 

If  you  could  see  the  beauty  of  this  scene,  you  would  think  me  mad  to  leave 
it,  and  I  almost  think  myself  so  too.  The  b'oys  are  eager  to  be  off,  and  I  feel 
myself  that  the  work  of  Rugby  is  far  more  welcome  when  I  come  to  it  as  a 
home  after  foreign  travelling,  than  when  I  only  go  to  it  from  Fox  How,  from 
one  home  to  another,  and  from  what  is  naturally  the  more  dear  to  the  less 
dear.  Yet  I  should  be  very  false,  and  very  ungrateful  too,  if  I  did  not 
acknowledge  that  Rugby  was  a  very  dear  home ;  with  so  much  of  work,  and 
yet  so  much  of  quiet,  as  my  wife  and  I  enjoy  every  day  when  we  go  out 
with  her  pony  into  our  quiet  lanes. 

We  have  been  reading  some  of  the  Rhetoric  in  the  Sixth 

Form  this  half-year,  and  its  immense  value  struck  me  again  so  forcibly,  that 
I  could  not  consent  to  send  my  son  to  an  University  where  he  would  lose  it 
altogether,  and  where  his  whole  studies  would  be  formal  merely  and  not  real, 
either  mathematics  or  philology,  with  nothing  at  all  like  the  Aristotle  and 
Thucydides  at  Oxford.  In  times  past,  the  neglect  of  philology  at  Oxford 
was  so  shameful,  that  it  almost  neutralized  the  other  advantages  of  the  place, 
but  I  do  not  think  that  this  is  so  now :  and  the  utter  neglect  of  viva  voce 
translation  at  Cambridge  is  another  great  evil ;  even  though  by  construing 


396  LIFE  0F   DR-   ARNOLD. 

instead  of  translating  they  almost  undo  the  good  of  their  viva  voce  system 
at  Oxford. 


CCLXXV.       TO    THE    SAME. 

Fox  How,  August  1,  1841. 

Thank  you  for  Randall's  letter.     He  is  one  of  the  many 

men  whom  the  course  of  life  has  to  my  regret  parted  me  from ;  I  do  not 
mean  "  parted,"  in  the  sense  of  estranged,  but  simply  hindered  us  from 
meeting.  I  was  very  glad  to  see  his  judgment  on  the  matters  in  which  I  am 
bo  interested,  and  rejoiced  to  find  how  much  I  agree  with  him.  Indeed  I  do 
not  think  that  we  differ  so  much  as  he  imagines ;  I  think  the  existence  of 
Dissent  a  great  evil,  and  I  believe  my  inclinations  as  little  lead  me  to  the 
Dissenters  as  any  man's  living.  But  I  do  not  think  in  the  first  place,  that  the 
Christian  unity  of  which  our  Lord  and  his  Apostles  speak  so  earnestly,  is  an 
unity  of  government, — or  that  national  churches,  each  sovereign,  or  churches 
of  a  less  wide  extent  than  national,  each  equally  sovereign,  are  a  breach  of 
unity  necessarily  ;  and  again,  if  Dissent  as  it  exists  in  England  were  a  breach 
of  unity,  then  there  comes  the  historical  question,  whose  fault  the  breach  is  ? 
and  that  question  is  not  to  be  answered  summarily,  nor  will  the  true  answer 
ever  lay  all  the  blame  on  the  Dissenters,  I  think  not  so  much  as  half  of  it.  . 

If  you  did  not  object,  I  should  very  much  like  to  write  to  Randall  myself 
on  the  point ;  if  it  were  only  to  know  from  what  parts  of  my  writings  he  has 
been  led  to  ascribe  to  me  opinions  and  feelings  which  are  certainly  not  mine, 
in  his  impression  of  them. 


CCLXXVI.      TO    THE    REV.   JAMES    RANDALL. 

Fox  How,  September  20,  1841. 

I  read  your  letter  to  Coleridge  with  great  interest,  and  wished  much  to 
write  to  you  about  it,  but  I  fear  that  I  have  not  time  to  do  so.  It  would 
take  rather  along  time  to  state  what  I  think  about  Dissent  and  what  is  called 
"  Schism."  I  think  it  a  great  evil,  as  being  inconsistent  with  the  idea  of 
the  perfect  Church,  to  which  our  aspirations  should  be  continually  directed. 
But  "  in  fiaece  Romuli,"  with  historical  Churches,  and  such  ideas  of  Church 
as  have  been  most  prevalent,  Dissent  seems  to  me  to  wear  a  very  different 
aspect.  Yet  I  am  not  partial  to  our  English  Dissenters,  and  think  that 
their  views  are  quite  as  narrow  as  those  of  their  opponents.  And  what  good 
is  to  be  done,  will  be  done,  I  think,  much  sooner  by  members  of  the 
Church  than  by  Dissenters. 

What  you  say  of  my  books  is  very  gratifying  to  me.  It  repays  the  labour 
of  writing  in  the  best  manner,  to  know  that  any  thinking  man  has  consid- 
ered what  one  has  written,  and  has  found  in  it  something  to  interest  him, 
whether  he  agrees  with  it  or  no.  By  the  way,  your  criticism  on  a  passage 
in  my  Christmas  Day  Sermon  is  quite  just;  and,  if  my  Sermon  expresses 
any  other  doctrine,1  it  has  failed  in  expressing  my  meaning.  Surely,  I  do 
not  hold  that  the  Godhead  of  the  Son  is  really  inferior  to  that  of  the  Father, 
but  only  y.ax  6iy.ovofi(av, — that  is,  it  is  presented  to  us  mixed  with  an  inferior 
nature,  and  also  with  certain  qualities,  visibility  for  instance,  which  have 
been  assumed  in  condescension,  but  which  are  still  what  St.  Paul  calls  "  an 
emptying  of  the  Divinity,"  presenting  it  to  us  in  a  less  absolutely  perfect 
form,  because  it  is  not  merely  itself,  but  itself  with  something  inferior  joined 
to  it 

1  Viz.,  that  Deity  does  not  admit  of  degrees. 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  397 


CCLXXVII.      TO    THE    REV.   J.    HEARN. 

June  25,1841. 

I  piirpose  leaving  this  place  for  the  Continent  with  my  two  eldest  sons 
on  Monday  next,  and  I  wish  before  we  set  out  to  thank  you  for  your  last 
letter;  and  to  send  my  earnest  good  wishes  for  the  health  and  welfare, 
temporal  and  eternal,  of  my  dear  little  godson.  We  have  been  here  about 
a  week,  after  a  half-year  at  Rugby  very  peaceable  as  far  as  regarded  the 
conduct  of  the  boys,  but  very  anxious  as  regarding  their  health.  One  boy 
died  from  pressure  on  the  brain  in  the  middle  of  the  half-year ;  another  has 
died  within  the  last  week  of  fever,  and  a  third,  who  had  been  long  in  a  deli- 
cate state  and  went  home  for  his  health,  is  since  dead  also.  And  besides  all 
these,  four  boys  more  were  at  different  times  at  the  very  point  of  death,  and 
some  are  even  now  only  slowly  and  with  difficulty  recovering.  You  may 
conceive  how  much  anxiety  and  distress  this  must  have  occasioned  us  ;  yet 
I  can  most  truly  say,  that  it  is  as  nothing  when  compared  with  the  existence 
of  any  unusual  moral  evil  in  the  school ;  far  less  distressing  and  far  less 
harassing. 

This  place  is  very  calm  and  very  beautiful,  and  I  think  would  furnish 
you  with  much  employment,  if  you  lived  here  all  the  year.  But  I  am  so 
ignorant  about  gardening  and  agricultural  matters,  that  I  can  do  little  or 
nothing ;  and  besides,  we  are  away  just  at  those  times  of  the  year  when 
there  is  most  to  be  done. 

I  am  very  glad  you  saw  my  old  friend  Tucker.  He  was  with  us  for  a 
few  days  in  April,  and  he  seemed  to  have  derived  nothing  but  good  in  all 
ways  from  his  stay  in  India.  Before  he  went  out  he  had  for  some  time  been 
growing  more  and  more  of  an  Evangelical  partisan,  and  had  acquired  some 
of  the  narrowness  of  mind  and  peculiarity  of  manner  which  belong  to  that 
party.  But  his  missionary  life  seems  to  have  swept  away  all  those  clouds  ; 
and  I  found  him  now  with  all  the  simplicity,  hearty  cheerfulness,  affection- 
ateness,  and  plain  sense,  which  he  had  when  a  young  man  at  Oxford,  with 
all  the  earnestness  and  goodness  of  a  ripened  Christian  superadded.-  It  was 
one  of  the  most  delightful  renewals  of  intercourse  with  an  old  friend  which 
I  can  ever  hope  to  enjoy. 


CCLXXVIII.      TO    THE    REV.    J.    TUCKER. 

Fox  How,  August  2,  1841. 

I  have  heard  of  you  in  various  quarters  since  your  visit 

at  Rugby,  but  I  do  not  at  all  know  what  your  plans  are,  and  when  you  pro- 
pose leaving  England.  If  you  can  pay  us  another  visit  at  Rugby  before 
you  sail,  we  shall  all  earnestly  unite  in  entreating  you  to  do  so.  It  was  a 
great  gratification  to  me  to  find  that  many  of  our  children  enjoyed  your  visit 
extremely,  and  have  spoken  both  of  it  and  of  your  sermon  which  you 
preached  in  the  church  in  a  manner  that  has  been  very  delightful  to  me. 

For  myself,  my  dear  friend,  your  visit  has  been  a  happiness  greater  than 
I  could  tell  you.  It  assured  me,  that  I  still  possessed  not  only  your  affec- 
tionate remembrances  for  the  sake  of  old  times,  which  I  never  doubted,  but 
your  actual  living  friendship,  unshaken  by  differences  of  opinion,  whatever 
those  differences  might  be.  I  believe  in  my  own  case,  as  often  happens,  my 
friends  have  exaggerated  those  differences.  Keble,  I  am  sure,  has  ascribed 
to  me  opinions  which  I  never  held,  not  of  course  wilfully,  but  because  his 
sensitiveness  on  some  points  is  so  morbid,  that  his  power  of  judgment  is  pro 
tanto  utterly  obscured.  The  first  shock  of  perceiving  something  that  he 
does  not  like  makes  him  incapable  of  examining  steadily  how  great  or  how 
little  that  something  is.  I  had  feared  (therein  very  likely  doing  you  injustice) 
that,  before  you  left  England  for  India,  you  had  in  some  degree  shared 


398  LIFE   0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

Keble's  feelings,  though  on  different  grounds;  and  I  did  not  write  to  you, 
though  with  many  a  wish  to  do  so,  because  one  feels  instinctively  repelled, 
I  think,  from  communicating  with  an  old  friend,  except  on  a  footing  of  equal 
confidence  and  respect ;  and  I  doubted  your  feeling  these  towards  me,  though 
I  did  not  doubt  your  kindness  and  affection.  But  one  or  two  men  have  be- 
haved towards  me  in  the  course  of  my  life  just  as  they  might  have  done, 
being  kind  hearted  and  affectionate  men,  if  I  had  committed  some  great 
crime,  which  rendered  respect  or  friendship  impossible,  though  old  kindness 
might  still  survive  it.  And  this  is  hard  to  bear,  when,  far  from  being  con- 
scious of  such  great  fault  in  myself  in  the  points  which  are  objected  to,  I 
hold  my  faith  in  those  points  to  be  the  most  certain  truth  in  Christ,  and  the 
opposite  opinions  to  be  a  most  grievous  and  mischievous  error,  which  I 
only  will  not,  in  the  individual  cases  of  those  holding  it,  regard  as  they  re- 
gard my  supposed  error,  because  I  know  that  along  with  it  there  exist  a 
truth  and  a  goodness  which  I  am  clearly  warranted  in  loving  and  in  believ- 
ing to  be  Christ's  Spirit's  work.  But  your  last  visit  was  so  friendly : — I 
perceived,  too,  that  you  could  bear  things  with  which  you  might  not  agree, 
and  saw  and  felt  with  satisfaction  how  much  there  was  with  which  you  did 
agree,— that  I  was  altogether  revived,  and,  if  I  may  use  St.  Paul's  language, 
"  my  heart  was  enlarged,"  and  I  ventured  to  tell  Fellowes  to  send  you  my 
new  volume  of  Sermons,  as  to  a  man  who  might  not  and  would  not  agree 
with  all  that  he  found  there,  but  yet  would  not  be  shocked  at  it,  but  wouM 
believe  that  it  was  intended  to  serve  the  same  cause  to  which  he  was  himself 
devoted.  And  I  have  had  the  full  intention  of  writing  to  you  as  in  times 
past,  if  you  again  sailed  to  India,  or  if  you  remained  in  England ;  of  which 
intention  be  this  present  letter  the  first  fruits  and  pledge. 


CCLXXIX.      TO    THE    SAME. 

Fox  How,  August  12,  1843. 

....  I  thank  you  very  much  for  your  letter,  although,  to  say  the  truth, 
there  were  some  expressions  in  it  which  a  little  disappointed  me.  I  do  not 
know,  in  point  of  fact,  what  our  differences  of  opinion  are,  and  with  regard 
to  Newmanism,  I  had  supposed  that  we  were  mostly  in  agreement.  I  should 
have  expected,  therefore,  that  generally  you  would  have  agreed  with  the 
Introduction  to  my  last  volume  ;  and  that  your  differences  would  have  been 
rather  with  some  parts  of  the  appendices.  But  I  do  not  mean  by  dis- 
appointment the  finding  more  or  less  of  disagreement  in  opinion,  but  much 
more  the  finding  that  you  still  look  upon  the  disagreement,  be  it  what  it 
may,  as  a  serious  matter,  by  which  I  understand  you  to  mean  a  thing  de- 
serving of  moral  censure ;  as  if,  for  example,  one  had  a  friend  whom  one  re- 
spected and  loved  for  many  good  qualities,  but  whose  temper  was  so 
irritable,  that  it  made  a  considerable  abatement  in  one's  estimate  of  him. 
Of  course,  he  who  believes  his  own  views  to  be  true,  must  believe  the  oppo- 
site views  to  be  error ;  but  the  great  point  in  our  judgment  and  feelings  to- 
wards men  seems  to  be  not  to  confound  error  with  fault.  I  scarcely  know 
one  amongst  my  dearest  friends,  except  Bunsen,  whom  I  do  not  believe  to 
be  in  some' point  or  other  in  grave  error;  I  differ  very  widely  from  Whately 
on  many  points,  as  I  differ  from  you  and  from  Keble  on  others ;  but  the 
sense  of  errors  is  with  me  something  quite  distinct  from  the  sense  of  fault, 
and  if  I  were  required  to  name  Keble's  faults  or  yours,  it  would  never  enter 
into  my  head  to  think  of  his  Newmanism  or  your  opinions,  whatever  they 


hoped  that  you  now  did  not,  towards  an  error  as  it  it  were  a  iault,  and  judging 
it  morally.  We  are  speaking,  you  will  observe,  of  such  errors  as  are  consist- 
ent with  membership,  not  only  in  Christianity,  but  in  the  same  particular 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  399 

Church  ;  and  I  cannot  think  that  we  have  a  right  to  regard  such  as  faults, 
though  we  have  quite  a  right,  a  right  which  I  would  largely  exercise,  to 
protest  against  them  as  mischievous, — mischievous,  it  may  he,  in  a  very  high 
degree,  as  I  think  Newmanism  is. 


CCLXXX.      TO    THE    SAME. 

Fox  How,  September  22,  1841. 

I  must  write  a  few  lines  to  you  before  we  leave  Fox  How,  because  my 
first  arrival  at  Rugby  is  likely  to  be  beset  with  business,  and  I  fear  that 
your  time  of  sailing  is  drawing  near.  Most  heartily  do  I  thank  you  for  your 
last  letter,  and  you  may  be  sure  that  I  will  not  trouble  you  on  the  subject 
any  farther.  Nor  do  I  feel  it  necessary,  for  although  it  may  be  that  there  is 
something  which  I  could  wish  otherwise  still,  yet  I  feel  now  that  it  need  not 
and  will  not  disturb  our  intercourse,  and  therefore  I  can  write  to  you  with 
perfect  content. 

You  are  going  again  to  your  work,  which  I  feel  sure  is  and  will  be 
blessed  both  to  others  and  yourself.  I  should  be  well  pleased  if  one  of  my 
sons  went  out  hereafter  to  labour  in  the  same  field,  but  what  line  they  will 
take  seems  very  hard  to  determine.  They  do  not  seem  inclined  to  follow 
Medicine,  and  I  have  the  deepest  abhorrence  of  the  Law,  so  that  two  pro- 
fessions seem  set  aside,  and  for  trade,  I  have  neither  capital  nor  connexion. 
Meanwhile  I  wish  them  to  do  well  at  the  University,  which  will  be  an 
arming  them  in  a  manner  for  whatever  may  open  to  them.  We  shall  leave 
this  place,  I  think,  on  Friday.  This  long  stay  has" doubly  endeared  it  to  us 
all,  and  though  I  am  thankful  to  be  able  to  get  back  to  Rugby,  yet  there 
will  be  a  sad  wrench  in  leaving  Fox  How.  It  is  not  the  mere  outward 
beauty,  but  the  friendliness  and  agreeableness  of  the  neighbourhood  in 
which  we  mix,  simply  as  inhabitants  of  the  country,  and  not  as  at  Rugby, 
in  an  official  relation. 

The  School  is  summoned  for  the  9th  of  October,  but  many  of  the  boys 
will  return,  I  think,  on  Saturday,  so  that  the  work  will  begin  probably  on 
Monday,  but  as  I  have  some  of  the  Sixth  Form  down  here,  I  have  not  the 
leisure  for  my  History  I  could  have  desired.  I  trust  that  you  will  go  on  with 
your  Journal,  and  that  you  will  hereafter  allow  large  portions  of  it  to  be 
printed.  I  am  persuaded  that  it  will  do  more  towards  enabling  us  to  realize 
India  to  ourselves,  than  any  thing  which  has  yet  appeared. 


CHAPTER  X, 


LAST  YEAR.-PROFESSORSHIP  OF  MODERN  HISTORY  AT  OXFORD- 
LAST  DAYS  AT  RUGBY— DEATH.— CONCLUSION. 

It  was  now  the  fourteenth  year  of  Dr.  Arnold's  stay  at  Rugby. 
The  popular  prejudice  against  him,  which  for  the  last  few  years 
had  been  rapidly  subsiding,  now  began  actually  to  turn  in  his  fa- 
vour ; — his  principles  of  education,  which  at  one  time  had  provoked 
so  much  outcry,  met  with  general  acquiescence ; — the  school,  with 
each  successive  half-year,  rose  in  numbers  beyond  the  limit  within 
which  he  endeavoured  to  confine  it,  and  seemed  likely  to  take  a 
higher  rank  than  it  had  ever  assumed  before  ; — the  alarm  which 
had  once  existed  against  him  in  the  theological  world  was  now 
directed  to  an  opposite  quarter ; — his  fourth  volume  of  Sermons, 
with  its  Introduction,  had  been  hailed  by  a  numerous  party  with 
enthusiastic  approbation ;  and  many  who  had  long  hung  back 
from  him  with  suspicion  and  dislike,  now  seemed  inclined  to  gather 
round  him  as  their  champion  and  leader. 

His  own  views  and  objects  meanwhile  remained  the  same. 
But  the  feeling  of  despondency,  with  which  for  some  time  past  he 
had  regarded  public  affairs,  now  assumed  a  new  phase,  which, 
though  it  might  possibly  have  passed  away  with  the  natural  course 
of  events,  coloured  his  mind  too  strongly  during  this  period  to  be 
passed  over  without  notice. 

His  interest,  indeed,  in  political  and  ecclesiastical  matters  still 
continued ;  and  his  sermon  on  Easter  Day,  1842,  stands  almost  if 
not  absolutely  alone  in  the  whole  course  of  his  school  sermons,  for 
the  severity  and  vehemence  of  its  denunciations  against  what  he 
conceived  to  be  the  evil  tendencies  of  the  Oxford  School.  But  he 
entertained  also  a  growing  sense  of  his  isolation  from  all  parties, 
whether  from  those  with  whom  he  had  vainly  tried  to  co-operate 
in  former  years,  or  those  who,  from  fear  of  a  common  enemy,  were 
now  anxious  to  claim  him  as  an  ally ;  and  it  was  not  without 
something  of  a  sympathetic  feeling  that,  in  his  Lectures  of  this 
year,  he  dwelt  so  earnestly  on  the  fate  of  his  favourite  Falkland, 
('  who  protests  so  strongly  against  the  evil  of  his  party,  that  he  had 
rather  die  by  their  hands  than  in  their  company — but  die  he  must ; 


LIFE    OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  401 

for  there  is  no  place  left  on  earth  where  his  sympathies  can  breathe 
freely ; — he  is  obliged  to  leave  the  country  of  his  affections,  and 
life  elsewhere  would  be  intolerable."  And  it  is  impossible  not  to 
observe  how,  in  the  course  of  sermons  preached  during  this  year, 
he  turned  from  the  active  "course"  of  the  Christian  life,  with  its 
outward  "helps  and  hindrances,"  to  its  inward  "hopes  and  fears," 
and  its  final  "close;"1  or  how,  in  his  habitual  views  at  this  time, 
he  seemed  disposed,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  to  regard  the  divi- 
sions of  the  Church  as  irreparable,  the  restoration  of  the  Church 
as  all  but  impracticable,  and  "to  cling,"  as  he  expresses  himself  in 
one  of  his  letters,  "not  from  choice,  but  from  necessity,  to  the  Pro- 
testant tendency  of  laying  the  whole  stress  on  Christian  Religion, 
and  adjourning  his  idea  of  the  Church  sine  die."  It  was  in  ihis 
spirit,  also,  that  he  began  to  attach  a  new  importance  to  the  truths 
relating  to  a  man's  own  individual  convictions,  which,  though  al- 
ways occupying  a  prominent  place  in  his  thoughts,  had  naturally 
less  hold  upon  his  sympathies  than  those  which  affect  man  in 
relation  to  society.  The  controversy  on  Justification  acquired 
greater  interest  in  his  eyes  than  it  had  assumed  before  ;  and  he  felt 
himself  called,  for  the  first  time,  to  unfold  his  own  views  on  the 
subject.  The  more  abstract  and  metaphysical  grounds  of  truth, 
divine  and  human,  which  he  had  formerly  been  accustomed  to 
regard  in  its  purely  practical  aspect,  were  now  becoming  invested 
in  his  mind  with  a  new  value.  And, — whilst  in  his  latest  studies 
of  early  Christian  history,  in  the  Epistles  of  Cyprian,  he  dwelt  with 
an  increasing  sympathy  and  admiration,  which  penetrated  even  into 
his  private  devotions,  on  the  endurance  and  self-devotion  of  the  early 
martyrs,  and  on  the  instruction  to  be  derived  from  contemplating 
an  age  "  when  martyrdom  was  a  real  thing  to  which  every  Chris- 
tian might,  without  any  remarkable  accident,  be  exposed,"2 — he 
was  also  much  struck  with  the  indications  which  these  Epistles 
seemed  to  him  to  contain,  that  the  Church  had  been  corrupted  not 
only  by  the  Judaic  spirit  of  priesthood,  but  even  more  by  the  Gen- 
tile spirit  of  government,  stifling  the  sense  of  individual  responsi- 
bility. "  The  treatment  of  the  Lapsi,  by  Cyprian,"  he  said,  "is 
precisely  in  the  spirit  of  the  treatment  of  the  Capuans  by  the  Roman 
Senate,  of  which  I  was  reading  at  the  same  time  for  my  Roman 
History.  I  am  myself  so  much  inclined  to  the  idea  of  a  strong 
social  bond,  that  I  ought  not  to  be  suspected  of  any  tendency  to 
anarchy ;  yet  I  am  beginning  to  think  that  the  idea  may  be  over- 
strained, and  that  this  attempt  to  merge  the  soul  and  will  of  the 
individual  man  in  the  general  body  is,  when  fully  developed,  con- 
trary to  the  very  essence  of  Christianity." 

Such  were  the  general  feelings  with  which  he  entered  on  this 
year — a  year,  on  every  account,  of  peculiar  interest  to  himself  and 
his  scholars.     It  had  opened  with  an  unusual  mortality  in  the 

1  Sermons  XIII. — XXXIV.  in  the  posthumous  volume,  entitled,"  Christian  Life ;  it3 
Hopes,  its  Fears,  and  its  Close." 

2  See  Sermons,  vol.  v.  p.  316. 


402  LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

school.  One  of  his  colleagues,  and  seven  of  his  pupils,  mostly  from 
causes  unconnected  with  each  other,  had  been  carried  off  within 
its  first  quarter ;  and  the  return  of  the  boys  had  been  delayed  be- 
yond the  accustomed  time  in  consequence  of  a  fever  lingering  in 
Rugby,  during  which  period  he  had  a  detachment  of  the  higher 
Forms  residing  near  or  with  him  at  Fox  How.  It  was  during  his 
stay  here  that  he  received  from  Lord  Melbourne  the  offer  of  the 
Regius  Professorship  of  Modern  History  at  Oxford,  vacant  by  the 
death  of  Dr.  Nares.  How  joyfully  he  caught  at  this  unexpected 
realization  of  his  fondest  hopes  for  his  latest  years,  and  how  bright 
a  gleam  it  imparted  to  the  sunset  of  his  life,  will  best  be  expressed 
by  his  own  letters  and  by  the  account  of  his  Lectures. 

CCLXXXI.      TO    THE    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Fox  How,  August  21, 1841. 

Yon  may  perhaps  have  heard  my  news  already,  but  I  must  tell  you  my- 
self, because  you  are  so  much  connected  with  my  pleasure  in  it.  I  have 
accepted  the  Regius  Professorship  of  Modern  History,  chiefly  to  gratify  my 
earnest  longing  to  have  some  direct  connexion  with  Oxford ;  and  I  have 
thought  with  no  small  delight  that  I  should  now  see  something  of  you  in  the 
natural  course  of  things  every  year,  for  my  wife  and  myself  hope  to  take 
lodgings  for  ten  days  or  a  fortnight  every  Lent  Term,  at  the  end  of  our 
Christmas  holidays,  for  me  to  give  my  Lectures.  I  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  of  accepting  the  office,  though  it  will  involve  some  additional 
work,  and  if  I  live  to  leave  Rugby,  the  income,  though  not  great,  will  be 
something  to  us  when  we  are  poor  people  at  Fox  How.  But  to  get  a  reg- 
ular situation  in  Oxford  would  have  tempted  me,  I  believe,  had  it  been  ac- 
companied by  no  salary  at  all. 


CCLXXXII.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Fox  How,  September  1,  1841. 

In  the  midst  of  my  perplexities,  practical  and  historical,  I  am  going  to 
indulge  myself  by  writing  to  you.  My  practical  perplexity  is  about  the 
meeting  of  the  school,  which  in  ,either  way  involves  a  great  responsibility, 
and  the  chance  of  much  inconvenience  and  loss.  I  believe  that  we  might 
meet  next  week  without  any  real  imprudence,  and  that  the  amount  of  fever 
in  Rugby  is  but  trifling  ;  but  if  a  single  boy  were  to  catch  it,  after  the  two 
fatal  cases  of  last  half-year,  the  panic  would  be  so  great  that  we  should 
not  be  able  to  keep  the  school  together,  or  to  reassemble  it  till  after  Christ- 
mas  

My  historical  perplexity  has  caused  me  many  hours  of  work,  and  I  can- 
not yet  see  land.  It  shows  to  me  how  the  most  notorious  facts  may  be  cor- 
rupted, even  very  soon  after  the  occurrence,  when  they  are  subjected  to  no 
careful  and  judicious  inquiry.  Hannibal's  march  from  Capua  upon  Rome, 
to  effect  a  diversion  for  the  besieged  town,  is  of  course  one  of  the  most  strik- 
ing parts  of  the  whole  war.  I  want  to  give  it  in  detail,  and  with  all  the 
f  ainting  possible.  But  it  is  wholly  uncertain  by  what  road  he  advanced 
upon  Rome,  whether  by  the  Latin  road  direct  from  Capua,  or  by  an  enor- 
n  ous  circuit  through  Samnium, — just  the  road  which  we  took  last  summer 
from  Capua  to  Reate, — and  so  from  Reate  on  Rome.  Cffilius  Antipater, 
Polybius,  and  Appian,  all  either  assert  or  imply  the  latter.  Livy  says  the 
former,  and  gives  an  account  of  the  march,  from  Fabius,  I  think,  or  Cincius, 
which  is  circumstantial  and  highly  probable ;  but  he  is  such  a  simpleton, 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  403 

that  after  having  written  a  page  from  Cincius  or  Fabius,  he  then  copies 
from  some  other  writer  who  had  made  him  take  the  other  road ;  and,  after 
bringing  Hannibal  by  the  Latin  road,  he  makes  him  cross  the  Anio  to  ap- 
proach Rome,  and  tells  divers  anecdotes,  which  all  imply  that  he  came  by 
the  Valerian  or  Salarian  road  ;  for  of  course  the  Latin  road  has  no  more  to 
do  with  the  Anio  than  with  the  Arno.  The  evidences  and  the  probabilities 
are  so  balanced,  and  all  the  narratives  are  so  unsatisfactory,  that  1  cannot  tell 
what  to  do  about  it.  And  the  same  sort  of  thing  occurs  often,  with  such 
constant  uncertainty  as  to  the  text,  in  Livy, — the  common  editions  being 
restored  conjecturally  in  almost  every  page,  where  the  MSS.  are  utterly 
corrupt, — that  the  Punic  War  is  almost  as  hard  in  the  writing  as  in  the  fight- 
ing. 

Now,  about  my  Notes, — I  offended  in  that  matter  deliberately,  having 
always  so  enjoyed  a  history  with  many  notes,  and  having  known  so  many 
persons  feel  the  same,  that  I  multiplied  them  purposely.  But  I  quite  agree 
with  you  that  the  text  ought  to  be  intelligible  without  them  ;  and  if  you  will 
be  so  kind  as  to  point  out  the  passages  which  are  faulty  in  this  respect, 
I  shall  be  greatly  obliged  to  you,  and  will  try  and  manage  better  for, the 
future. 

I  thank  you  much  for  your  congratulations  about  the  Professorship.  I 
caught  at  any  opportunity  of  being  connected  again  with  Oxford  ;  and  the 
visions  of  Bagley  Wood  and  Shotover  rose  upon  me  with  an  irresistible 
charm.  Then  it  suited  so  well  with  future  living  at  Fox  How,  if  I  may  dare 
to  look  forward ;  giving  me  work  for  my  life,  and  an  income  for  life,  which, 
though  not  large,  would  be  much  to  me  when  I  had  left  Rugby,  (especially 
if  the  Americans  go  on  not  paying  their  just  and  lawful  debts,  whereby  I 
shall  lose  more  than  fifteen  hundred  pounds.)  And  now,  whilst  my  boys 
are  at  Oxford,  it  will  take  me  up  there  from  time  to  time,  and  will  give  me 
a  share  in  the  working  of  the  University,  although  not  a  great  one.  In 
short  there  is  nothing  which  the  Government  could  have  given  me  that 
would  have  suited  all  my  wishes  so  well,  and  great  tv/rj  it  was  that  it  fell 
vacant  only  one  week  before  the  Tories  came  into  power. 

Now  as  to  what  is  to  be  done  in  it.  I  shall  follow  your  advice,  arid  pon- 
der well  before  I  decide  on  any  thing With  regard  to  party 

questions,  I  should  wrke  as  I  am  trying  to  write  in  my  Roman  History, 
avoiding  partisanship  or  personalities  ;  but  as  1  have  said  in  the  Preface 
to  the  History,  if  history  has  no  truths  to  teach,  its  facts  are  but  little  worth ; 
and  the  truths  of  political  science  belong  as  much,  I  think,  to  an  1  istorian, 
as  those  of  theology  to  a  Professor  of  Divinity.  As  an  ecclesiastical  histo- 
rian, I  would  try  to  hold  an  equal  balance  between  Catholics  and  Arians, 
but  not  between  Catholicism  and  Arianism  ;  and  so  it  seems  to  me  one 
ought  to  deal  with  the  great  principles  of  Government  and  of  Politics,  and 
not  to  write  as  if  there  were  no  truth  attainable  in  the  matter,  but  all  was 
mere  opinion.  Roman  and  English  History  particularly  illustrate  each 
other ;  but  I  do  not  know  how  I  could  more  particularly  connect  my  Lec- 
tures with  the  History.  The  influence  of  the  Roman  Empire  upon  Modern 
Europe  would  naturally  often  be  touched  upon  ;  but  the  more  minute  inquiry 
as  to  the  particular  effects  of  the  Roman  law  on  ours,  would  be  beyond  my 
compass ;  and  the  transition  state  from  ancient  to  modern  history  is  not  to 
me  inviting  as  a  period,  and  it  has  besides  been  so  often  treated  of. 

is  going  up  to  Trinity  College,  Oxford,  after  the  long  vacation.  We 

do  not  know  him  personally,  but  are  interested  about  him  for  his  friends' 
sake.  If  your  son  Henry  could  show  him  any  countenance,  I  should  be  very 
much  obliged  to  him,  and  you  know  the  value  of  kindness  shown  to  a  fresh- 
man. 

We  unite  in  love  and  kind  regards  to  you  and  yours.  I  could  rave  about 
the  beauty  of  Fox  How,  but  I  will  forbear.  I  work  very  hard  at  mowing 
the  grass  amongst  the  young  trees,  which  gives  me  constant  employment. 
Wordsworth  is  remarkably  well.  I  direct  to  Ottery,  hoping  that  you  may 
be  there  at  peace,  escaped  from  the  Old  Bailey. 


404  LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


CCLXXXIII.       TO    SIR    T.    S.    PASLEY,    BART. 

Fox  How,  September  23,  1841. 

The  first  Protestant  Bishop  of  Jerusalem  is  to  be  con- 


secrated at  Lambeth  next  Wednesday.  He  is  to  be  the  legal  protector  of 
all  Protestants  of  every  denomination  towards  the  Turkish  government,  and 
he  is  to  ordain  Prussian  clergymen  on  their  signing  the  Augsburg  Confes- 
sion and  adopting  the  Prussian  Liturgy,  and  Englishmen  on  their  subscribing 
to  our  Articles  and  Liturgy.  Thus  the  idea  of  my  Church  Reform  pam- 
phlet, which  was  so  ridiculed  and  so  condemned,  is  now  carried  into  practice 
by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  himself.  For  the  Protestant  Church  of 
Jerusalem  will  comprehend  persons  using  different  Liturgies,  and  subscrib- 
ing different  Articles  of  Faith ;  and  it  will  sanction  these  differences,  and 
hold  both  parties  to  be  equally  its  members.  Yet  it  was  thought  ridiculous 
in  me  to  conceive  that  a  national  Church  might  include  persons  using  a  dif- 
ferent ritual  and  subscribing  different  articles.  Of  course  it  is  a  grave 
question  what  degrees  of  difference  are  compatible  with  the  bond  of  Church 
union  ;  but  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  has  declared  in  the  plainest  lan- 
guage that  some  differences  are  compatible  with  it,  and  this  is  the  great 
principle  which  I  contended  for. 

In  your  letter  of  the  2nd  of  August,  you  ask  whether  I  think  that  a 
Christian  ministry  is  of  divine  appointment.  Now  I  cannot  conceive  any 
Church  existing  without  public  prayer,  preaching,  and  communion,  and 
some  must  minister  in  these  offices.  But  that  these  "  some  "  should  be  al- 
ways the  same  persons,  that  they  should  form  a  distinct  profession,  and, 
following  no  other  calling,  should  be  maintained  by  the  Church,  I  do  not 
think  to  be  of  divine  appointment,  but  I  think  it  highly  expedient  that  it 
should  be  so.  In  the  same  way,  government  for  the  Church  is  of  divine  ap- 
pointment, and  is  of  absolute  necessity  ;  but  that  the  governors  should  be 
for  life,  or  possess  such  and  such  powers,  or  should  be  appointed  in  such  or 
such  a  way,  all  this  appears  to  me  to  be  left  entirely  open.  I  shall  be  very 
anxious  to  hear  what  reports  Malcolm  gives  of  himself,  when  he  gets  a  little 
used  to  his  new  life. 


CCLXXXIV.       *  TO    REV.    A.    P.    STANLEY. 

Rugby,  September  29,  1841. 

I  have  not  written  to  you  since  I  accepted  the  Profes- 
sorship, though  it  has  made  me  think  of  you  very  often.  I  should  like  very 
much  to  have  your  opinion  as  to  the  best  line  to  choose  in  my  lectures  ;  the 
best  practicable,  that  is,  for  the  best  6m).w<;  is  beyond  my  means  to  compass. 
I  had  thought  of  trying  to  do  for  England  what  Guizot  began  so  well  for 
France  ;  to  start  with  the  year  1400,  and  make  the  first  year's  course  com- 
prise the  15th  century.  My  most  detailed  historical  researches  happen  to 
have  related  to  that  very  century,  and  it  gives'you  the  middle  ages  still  un- 
decayed,  yet  with  the  prospect  of  daybreak  near.  I  could  not  bear  to 
plunge  myself  into  the  very  depths  of  that  noisome  cavern,  and  to  have  to 
toil  through  centuries  of  dirt  and  darkness.  But  one  century  will  show 
fully  its  nature  and  details,  the  ripened  corruption  of  the  Church,  and  in 
England  the  ripened  evils  of  the  feudal  aristocracy,  and  those  curious  wars 
of  the  Roses,  which  I  suppose  were  as  purely  personal  and  party  wars 
without  reference  to  higher  principles,  as  ever  existed.  I  think  I  shall 
write  to  Sir  F.  Palgrave,  and  put  some  questions  to  him  which  he  can  an- 
swer, I  suppose,  better  than  any  one.  Do  you  know  whether  there  exists 
in  rerum  natura  any  thing  like  a  Domesday  Book  for  the  15th  century  ?  It 
would  be  very  curious  to  trace,  if  one  could,  the  changes  of  property  pro- 


LIFE  OP   DR.  ARNOLD. 


405 


duced  by  the  wars  of  the  Roses,  and  the  growth  of  the  English  aristocracy 
upon  the  gradual  extinction  of  that  purely  Norman.1 

I  think  of  coming  up  in  Michaelmas  term  to  give  my  Inaugural  Lecture. 
The  interest  which  I  shall  feel  in  lecturing  in  Oxford,  you  can  understand, 
I  think,  better  than  most  men.  As  to  the  spirit  in  which  I  should  lecture 
with  respect  to  the  peculiar  feelings  of  the  place,  the  best  rule  seems  to  me 
to  lecture  exactly  as  I  should  write  for  the  world  at  large ;  to  lecture,  that 
is,  neither  hostilely  nor  cautiously,  not  seeking  occasions  of  shocking  men's 
favourite  opinions,  yet  neither  in  any  way  humouring  them,  or  declining  to 
speak  the  truth,  however  opposed  it  may  be  to  them.  Oxford  caution  would 
in  me  be  little  better  than  weakness  or  ratting,  especially  now  that  the  To- 
ries are  in  the  ascendant. 


CCLXXXV.      TO    W.    EMPSON.    ES9_. 

Rugby,  October  15,  1841. 

As  each  successive  year  passes.  I  turn  to  Fox  How  with  more 

homelike  feelings,  and  our  long  stay  there  this  summer  has  encouraged  this 
greatly.  It  is  one  of  the  great  recommendations  of  the  Professorship  to  me, 
that  it  will  be  consistent  with  our  living  at  Fox  How,  and  will  only  call  us 
away  for  a  part  of  the  year  to  Oxford,  the  place  to  which  I  still  have  the 
strongest  local  affection  of  any  in  the  world,  next  to  our  valley  of  the  Rotha. 

The  Spanish  journey  was  a  sad  failure  on  the  whole ;  yet  I  saw  much 
that  I  wanted  to  see  in  France,  and  which  will  make  it  quite  needless  to 
travel  south-west  again ;  and  the  two  or  three  hours  of  fine  weather  which 
we  had  between  St.  Jean  de  Luz  and  Iran,  gave  me  a  view  of  the  maritime 
Pyrenees,  and  of  the  union  of  mountain  and  sea  about  the  mouth  of  the  Bi- 
dassoa,  which  I  shall  not  soon  forget.  The  Landes  also  delighted  me  from 
their  resemblance  to  the  New  Forest;  the  glades  of  heath,  surrounded  by 
wood,  and  the  dark  iron-coloured  streams  Iringed  with  alders,  were  quite 
like  the  south  of  Hampshire,  and  delighted  me  greatly. 

Our  eldest  son  is  gone  up  to  Oxford  this  day,  to  commence  his  residence 
at  Balliol.  It  is  the  first  separation  of  our  family,  for,  from  our  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances, all  our  nine  children  have  hitherto  lived  at  home  together,  with 
very  short  exceptions,  but  now  it  will  be  so  no  more. 

I  have  read  Stephen's  article  on  Port  Royal,  with  great  admiration ;  it 
seems  to  be  at  once  eloquent,  wise,  and  good.  Is  it  not  strange  that  the 
Guelf  and  Ghibelin  contest  should  be  again  reviving,  as  in  fact  it  is,  and  the 
greatest  questions  of  our  days  are  those  which  touch  the  nature  and  powers 
of  the  Church?  I  have  been  reading  Lamennais,  and  recognizing  the  true 
Guelf  union  of  democracy  and  priestcraft,  such  as  it  existed  in  Guelf  Flor- 
ence of  old.  The  Sans  Culotte,  with  the  mitre  on  his  head,  and  the  bandage 
over  his  eyes,  is  to  me  the  worst  Sans  Culotte  of  all.  I  am  glad  to  hear 
good  accounts  of  Seton  Karr,-  and  greatly  envy  Eton  their  gift  of  a  writer- 
ship. 


CCLXXXVI.      TO    REV.   T.    HILL,    VICAR    OF   CHESTERFIELD. 

(Not  personally  acquainted  with  him.) 

Rugby,  October  529,  1641. 

Allow  me  to  offer  you  my  sincere  thanks  for  your  kind  letter,  and  for  the 
sermon  which  you  have  had  the  goodness  to  send  me,  and  which  I  have 
read  with  great  pleasure.  It  is  encouraging  to  find  that  there  are  still  clerT 
gymen  who  are  not  ashamed  of  the  term  Protestant,  and  who  can  understand 

1  This  plan,  as  will  be  seen,  he  altered. 


40(5  LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 

that  the  essence  of  Popery  does  not  consist  in  the  accidental  exaltation  of 
the  Bishop  of  Rome,  but  in  those  principles  which  St.  Paul  found  in  the 
Judaizing  Christians,  even  in  the  very  beginning  of  the  Gospel,  and  which 
are  just  as  mischievous,  whether  they  happen  to  include  the  doctrine  of  the 
supremacy  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  or  no. 

With  regard  to  printing  the  Introduction  to  my  last  volume  of  Sermons 
separately,  f  trust  to  be  permitted  ere  long  to  publish  the  substance  of  it, 
somewhat  enlarged,  in  a  small  volume,  which  may  yet  exceed  the  size  of  a 
pamphlet.  I  am  very  unwilling  to  publish  again,  in  the  form  of  a  pamphlet, 
as  it  appears  to  me  to  give  a  personal  and  temporary  character  to  a  discus- 
sion which  belongs  to  all  times  of  the  Church,  and  really  involves  the  most 
fundamental  principles  of  Christianity. 

Thanking  you  most  sincerely  for  your  good  wishes,  I  would  earnestly 
and  seriously  crave  to  be  remembered  in  your  prayers,  and  believe  me  that 
to  feel  that  any  of  my  brother  ministers  of  Christ,  to  whom  I  am  personally 
unknown,  are  yet  interested  about  me,  is  one  of  the  greatest  earthly  encour- 
agements and  comforts  which  God  in  His  mercy  could  vouchsafe  to  me. 


CCLXXXVII.      TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.      (d.) 

Rugby,  October  30,  1841. 

" You  seemed  to  think  that  I  was  not  so  charitable  towards 

the 'Newmanites  as  I  used  to  be  towards  the  Roman  Catholics,  and  you  say 
that  the  Newmanites  are  to  be  regarded  as  entirely  Roman  Catholics.  I 
think  so  too,  but  with  this  grave  difference,  that  they  are  Roman  Catholics 
at  Oxford  instead  of  at  Oscott,— Roman  Catholics  signing  the  Articles  of  a 
Protestant  Church  and  holding  offices  in  its  ministry.  Now,  as  I  know  that 
you  are  a  fair  man,  and  I  think  that  Oxford  has  as  yet  not  deprived  you  of 
your  wideness  of  mind,  it  is  a  real  matter  of  interest  to  me,  to  know  how  the 
fact  of  these  men  being  Roman  Catholics  in  heart,  which  I  quite  allow,  can  be 
other  than  a  most  grave  charge  against  them,  till  they  leave  Oxford  and  our 
Protestant  Church.  I  cannot  at  all  conceive  how  you  can  see  this  otherwise, 
any  more  than  I  can  conceive  how  you  can  acquit  Tract  90  of  very  serious 
moral  delinquency.    For  surely  the  Feathers  Tavern  petitioners  would  have 

been  quite  as  much  justified  in  retaining  their  preferments  as and are 

justified  in  remaining  in  our  ministry.  Neither  does  it  seem  to  me  to  be  a  just 
argument  respecting  the  Articles  any  more  than  about  other  things,  to  insist 
that  they  shall  be  every  thing  or  nothing.  I  very  gladly  signed  the  Petition 
for  alterations,  because  I  agree  with  you  in  thinking  that  subscriptions  can- 
not be  too  carefully  worded ;  but  after  all,  the  real  honesty  of  a  subscription 
appears  to  me  to  consist  in  a  sympathy  with  the  system  to  which  you  sub- 
scribe in  a  preference  of  it,  not  negatively  merely,  as  better  than  others,  but 
positively,  as  in  itself  good  and  true  in  all  its  most  characteristic  points.  Now 
the  most  characteristic  points  of  the  English  Church  are  two ;  that  it  main- 
tains what  is  called  the  Catholic  doctrine  as  opposed  to  the  early  heresies, 
and  is  also  decidedly  a  reformed  Church  as  opposed  to  the  Papal  and  priestly 
system.  It  seems  to  me  that  here  is  the  stumbling  block  of  the  Newmanites. 
They  hate  the  Reformation  ;  they  hate  the  Reformers.  It  were  scarce  pos- 
sible that  they  could  subscribe  honestly  to  the  opinions  of  men  whom  they 
hate,  even  if  we  had  never  seen  the  process  of  their  subscription  in  detail. 

Undoubtedly  I  think  worse  of  Roman  Catholicism  in  itself  than  I  did 
some  years  ago.  But  my  feelings  towards  [a  Roman  Catholic]  are  quite 
different  from  my  feelings  towards  [a  Newmanite],  because  1  think  the  one 
a  fair  enemy,  the  other  a  treacherous  one.  The  one  is  the  Frenchman  in 
his  own  uniform,  and  within  his  own  prresidia;  the  other  is  the  Frenchman 
disguised  in  a  red  coat,  and  holding  a  post  within  our  prresidia,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  betraying  it.     I  should  honour  the  first,  and  hang  the  second. 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


CCLXXXVIII.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE    C*0LER1DGE. 


407 


(In  allusion  to  an  election  for  the  Professorship  of  Poetry  at  Oxford.) 

Rugby,  November  19,  1841. 

Seriously  I  should  feel  glad  to  be  able  to  vote  conscien- 
tiously for  a  Newmanite,  but  except  on  matters  of  science,  I  hardly  see  how 
this  could  be.  That  is,  I  can  conceive  no  moral  subject  on  which  I  should 
wish  to  see  a  Newmanite  placed  in  the  situation  of  a  teacher  in  Oxford. 
Earnestly  do  I  wish  to  live  peaceably  with  them  while  I  am  in  residence, 
neither  shall  it  be  my  fault  if  I  do  not.  But  courteous  personal  intercourse, 
nay,  personal  esteem  and  regard,  are  different  things,  I  think,  from  assisting 
to  place  a  man,  whose  whole  mind  you  consider  perverted,  in  the  situation 
of  a  teacher.  That  is,  I  think,  true  in  theory ;  but  what  I  hope  to  find  when 
I  get  up  to  Oxford,  is  that  the  Newmanites'  minds  are  not  wholly  perverted ; 
that  they  have  excellences  which  do  not  appear  to  one  at  a  distance,  who 
knows  them  only  as  Newmanites ;  and  in  this  way  I  hope  that  my  opinion 
of  many,  very  many,  of  the  men  who  hold  Newman's  views,  may  become 
greatly  more  favourable  than  it  is  now,  because  I  shall  see  their  better  parts 
as  well  as  their  bad  ones.  And  in  the  same  way  I  trust  that  many  of  them 
will  learn  to  think  more  favourably  of  me.1 

I  go  up  to  read  my  Inaugural  Lecture  on  the  2d  of  December,  and  I 
have  written  about  two-thirds  of  it.  I  think  that  you  will  approve  of  it ;  I 
have  tried  earnestly  to  be  cautious  and  conciliatory,  without  any  concealment 
or  compromise.  We  are  full  to  overflowing,  and  so  it  seems  we  are  likely 
to  be  after  the  holidays.  All  you  say  of  Selwyn  is  quite  in  accordance  with 
what  I  hear  of  him  from  others.  May  God's  blessing  be  on  him  and  on  his 
work. 


CCLXXXIX.        TO    CHEVALIER    BUNSEN. 

Rugby,  November  22, 184!. 

I  rejoice  very  deeply  at  the  prospect  of  your  remaining  in  England,  not 
only  on  personal  grounds,  because  we  shall  keep  you  among  us,  and  have 
Mrs.  Bunsen  here  with  you,  but  also  publicly,  because  I  delight  to  think 
that  the  relations  between  Prussia  and  England,  most  important  now  to  the 
whole  world,  will  be  watched  by  one,  to  whom  the  peace  and  mutual  friend- 
ship of  both  countries  are  so  precious  as  they  are  to  you.  The  only  draw- 
back is,  that  I  fear  this  post,  honourable  and  important  as  it  is,  may  seem 
to  detain  you  from  those  prospects  of  a  home  in  your  own  land,  in  which  I 
can  so  fully  sympathize,  for  we  are  both  approaching  the  age  when  "  ex 
longa  navigatione  jam  por turn  prospicimus,"  and,  even  with  the  conscious- 
ness of  undiminished  vigour,  still  the  thought-of  rest  mingles  in  my  dreams 
of  Ihe  future  more  often  than  it  did  ten  years  ago.  And  yet,  when  I  think 
of  the  works  that  are  to  be  done— every  where  I  suppose  more  or  less,  but 
here  in  England  works  of  such  vastness  and  of  such  necessity  also, — I  could 

1  Extract  from  a  letter  to  the  same  on  November  23d  :— "  I  am  not  satisfied  with 
what  I  have  written,  because  I  see  that  it  does  not  express  both  how  much  I  should  have 
enjoyed  voting  with  you,  and  also  how  entirely  I  agree  with  you  as  to  the  general  prin- 
ciple, that  Oxford  elections  should  not  be  decided  on  party  grounds.  But  then  this 
Newmanism  appears  to  me  like  none  of  the  old  parties  of  our  youth,  Whig  and  Tory, 
High  Church  and  Low  Church,  and  it  is  our  estimate  of  this,  I  am  afraid,  which  is  the 
great  difference  between  us.  I  do  not  know,  and  am  almost  afraid  to  ask,  how  far  you 
go  along  with  them,  and  yet  if  you  go  along  with  them  farther  than  I  think,  I  am  un- 
consciously saying  things  which  would  be  unkind.  Only  I  am  sure  that  morally  you  are 
not  and  cannot  be  what  some  of  them  are,  and  I  never  look  upon  our  differences  as  by 
any  possibility  diminishing  my  love  for  you.  My  fear  from  my  experience  in  other  cases 
would  have  been  that  it  would  affect  your  love  for  me,  had  it  not  been  for  that  delightful 
letter  of  yours  just  before  I  went  abroad,  for  which  I  cannot  enough  thank  you." 


403  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

long  for  years  of  strength,  if  it  might  be,  able  to  do  something  where  the 
hum  blest  efforts  are  so  needed. 

I  go  up  to  Oxford  on  the  2d  of  December,  Thursday  week,  to  read  my 
Inaugural  Lecture.  I  suppose  it  is  too  much  to  hope  that  you  could  be 
there,  but  it  woidd  give  me  the  greatest  pleasure  to  utter  my  first  words  in 
Oxford  in  your  hearing.  1  am  going  to  give  a  general  sketch  first  of  the 
several  parts  of  History  generally,  and  their  relation  to  each  other,  and  then 
of  the  peculiarities  of  Modern  History.  This  will  do  very  well  for  an  Inau- 
gural Lecture — but  what  to  choose  for  my  course  after  we  return  from  Fox 
How  I  can  scarcely  tell,  considering  how  little  time  I  shall  have  for  any  deep 
research,  and  how  important  it  is  at  the  same  time  that  my  first  Lectures 
should  not  be  superficial Our  Examination  begins  on  Wednes- 
day, still,  as  Thucydides  is  done,  and  gone  to  the  press,  and  as  my  Lecture 
will  be  finished,  I  hope,  in  one  or  two  evenings  more,  I  expect  to  be  able  to 
go  on  again  with  my  History  before  the  end  of  the  week,  and  I  may  do  a 
little  in  It  before  we  go  to  Fox  How. 

On  the  2d  of  December  he  entered  on  his  Professorial  ditties, 
by  delivering  his  Inaugural  Lecture.  His  school  work  not  permit- 
ting him  to  be  absent  more  than  one  whole  day,  he  left  Rugby  with 
Mrs.  Arnold,  very  early  in  the  morning,  and  occupying  himself 
from  the  time  it  became  light  in  looking  over  the  school  exercises, 
reached  Oxford  at  noon.  The  day  had  been  looked  forward  to 
with  eager  expectation,  and  the  usual  lecture-rooms  in  the  Claren- 
don Buildings  being  unable  to  contain  the  crowds  that,  to  the  num- 
ber of  four  or  five  hundred,  flocked  to  hear  him,  the  "  Theatre  " 
was  used  for  the  occasion ;  and  there,  its  whole  area  and  lower 
galleries  entirely  filled,  the  Professor  arose  from  his  place,  amidst 
the  highest  University  authorities  in  their  official  seats,  and  in  that 
clear  manly  voice,  which  so  long  retained  its  hold  on  the  memory 
of  those  who  heard  it,  began,  amidst  deep  silence,  the  opening 
words  of  his  Inaugural  Lecture. 

Even  to  an  indifferent  spectator,  it  must  have  been  striking, 
amidst  the  general  decay  of  the  professorial  system  in  Oxford,  and 
at  the  time  when  the  number  of  hearers  rarely  exceeded  thirty  or 
forty  students,  to  see  a  Chair,  in  itself  one  of  the  most  important  in 
the  place, — but  which,  from  the  infirmities  of  the  late  Professor, 
had  been  practically  vacant  for  nearly  twenty  years, — filled  at  last 
by  a  man  whose  very  look  and  manner  bespoke  a  genius  and  energy 
capable  of  discharging  its  duties  as  they  had  never  been  discharged 
before ;'  and  at  that  moment  commanding  an  audience  unprece- 
dented in  the  range  of  Academical  memory  :  the  oppressive  atmos- 
phere of  controversy,  hanging  at  that~particular  period  so  heavily 
on  the  University,  was  felt  at  least  for  the  time  to  be  suddenly 
broken  ;  and  the  whole  place  to  have  received  an  element  of  fresh- 
ness and  vigour,  such  as  in  the  course  of  the  lecture  itself  he  de- 
scribed in  his  sketch  of  the  renovation  of  the  worn  out  generations 
of  the  Roman  empire  by  the  new  life  and  energy  of  the  Teutonic 
races.  But  to  many  of  his  audience  there  was  the  yet  deeper  inte- 
rest of  again  listening  to  that  well-known  voice,  and  gazing  on  that 
well-known  face,  in  the  relation  of  pupils  to  their  teacher, — of  see- 
ing him  at  last,  after  years  of  misapprehension  and  obloquy,  standi 


LIFE   OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  409 

in  his  proper  place,  in  his  professorial  robes,  and  receive  a  tribute 
of  respect,  so  marked  and  so  general,  in  his  own  beloved  Oxford, — 
of  hearing  him  unfold  with  characteristic  delight  the  treasures  of 
his  favourite  study  of  History,  and  with  an  emotion,  the  more 
touching  for  its  transparent  sincerity  and  simplicity,  declare,  ':  how 
deeply  he  valued  the  privilege  of  addressing  his  audience  as  one  of 
the  Professors  of  Oxford," — how  "there  was  no  privilege  which  he 
more  valued,  no  public  reward  or  honour  which  could  be  to  him 
so  welcome.'" 

It  was  curious  that  the  Professorship  should  have  twice  seemed 
to  be  on  the  point  of  escaping  from  his  hold,  once  by  an  accidental 
mistake  shortly  after  his  appointment,  and  now,  immediately  after 
his  Inaugural  Lecture,  by  various  difficulties,  which  arose  from 
imperfect  information  respecting  the  regulations  of  an  office  that 
had  been  so  long  dormant.  But  these  difficulties,  which  are  ex- 
plained, so  far  as  is  necessary,  in  the  ensuing  letters,  were  removed 
on  a  more  complete  understanding  of  them  between  himself  and 
the  University  authorities  ;  the  oath,  which  he  had  refused  to  take, 
as  incompatible  with  a  sense  of  his  duties  as  Professor,  was  found 
to  be  no  part  of  the  original  institution  ;  and  accordingly,  finding 
that  he  could  still  retain  his  office,  after  finishing  the  first  seven  of 
his  Lectures  during  the  earlier  part  of  his  Christmas  vacation  at 
Fox  How,  he  came  up  to  Oxford  to  deliver  them  during  the  first 
three  weeks  of  the  Lent  Term  of  1842,  during  which  he  resided 
there  with  his  whole  family. 

The  recollections  of  that  time  will  not  easily  pass  away  from  the 
memory  of  his  audience.  There  were  the  Lectures  themselves, 
with  the  unwonted  concourse  which  to  the  number  of  two  or  three 
hundred  flocked  day  after  day  to  the  Theatrejo  listen  with  almost 
breathless  attention  to  a  man,  whose  opinions,  real  or  supposed, 
had  been  in  the  minds  of  many  of  his  hearers  so  long  associated 
with  every  thing  most  adverse  to  their  own  prepossessions ;  there 
.was  his  own  unfeigned  pleasure,  mingled  with  his  no  less  unfeigned 
surprise,  at  the  protracted  and  general  enthusiasm  which  his  pres- 
ence enkindled ;  his  free  acknowledgment  that  the  favour  shown 
to  him  was  in  great  measure  the  result  of  circumstances  over  which 
he  had  no  control,  and  that  the  numerous  attendance  which  his 
Lectures  then  attracted,  was  no  sure  pledge  of  its  continuance. 
There  are  many  too,  who  will  love  to  recall  his  more  general  life 
in  the  place ;  the  elastic  step  and  open  countenance,  which  made 
his  appearance  so  conspicuous  in  the  streets  and  halls  of  Oxford ; 
the  frankness  and  cordiality  with  which  he  met  the  welcome  of 
his  friends  and  pupils ;  the  anxiety  to  return  the  courtesies  with 
which  he  was  received  both  bjj  old  and  young  ;  the  calm  and  dig- 
nified abstinence  from  all  controversial  or  personal  topics ;  the 
interest  of  the  meeting  at  which,  within  the  walls  of  their  common 

1  Inaug.  Lect.  p.  43. 

27 


410 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


college,  he  became  for  the  first  time  personally  acquainted  with1 
that  remarkable  man,  whose  name  had  been  so  long  identified  in 
his  mind  with  the  theological  opinions  of  which  he  regarded  Oxford 
as  the  centre.  All  his  early  love  for  the  place  and  its  associations 
returned,  together  with  the  deeper  feelings  imparted  by  later  years  ; 
day  by  day,  on  his  return  from  Oriel  Chapel  to  his  house  in  Beau- 
mont Street,  he  delighted  to  linger  in  passing  the  magnificent 
buildings  of  the  Radcliffe  Square,  glittering  with  the  brightness  of 
the  winter  morning  ;  and  as  soon  as  his  day's  work  was  over,  he 
would  call  his  children  or  his  pupils  around  him.  and,  with  the 
ordnance  map  in  his  hand,  set  out  to  explore  the  haunts  of  his  early 
youth,  unvisited  now  for  more  than  twenty  years  ;  but  still  in  their 
minutest  details- -the  streams,  the  copses,  the  solitary  rock  by 
Bagley  Wood,  the  heights  of  Shotover,  the  broken  field  behind 
Ferry  Hincksey,  with  its  several  glimpses  of  the  distant  towers  and 
spires — remembered  with  the  freshness  of  yesterday. 

"And  so  ends  our  stay  in  Oxford,"  were  the  few  words  at  the 
close  of  his  short  daily  journal  of  engagements  and  business,  "  a 
stay  of  so  much  pleasure  in  all  ways  as  to  call  for  the  deepest 
thankfulness.  May  God  enable  me  to  work  zealously  and  thank- 
fully through  Jesus  Christ." 

In  turning  from  the  personal  to  the  public  interest  of  his  Pro- 
fessorial career,  its  premature  close  at  once  interposes  a  bar  to  any 
full  consideration  of  it ;  in  this  respect  so  striking  a  contrast  to  the 
completeness  of  his  life  at  Rugby,  in  its  beginning,  middle,  and 
end.  Yet  even  in  that  short  period,  the  idea  of  his  office  had  pre- 
sented itself  to  him  already  in  so  lively  a  form,  as  to  impart  a  more 
than  temporary  interest  both  to  what  he  did  and  what  he  intended 
to  do. 

His  actual  course  was  purely  and  in  every  sense  of  the  word 
"  introductory."  As  the  design  of  his  first  residence  in  Oxford  was 
not  to  gain  influence  over  the  place  so  much  as  to  familiarize  him- 
self with  it  after  his  long  absence  ;  so  the  object  of  his  first  Lec- 
tures was  not  so  much  to  impart  any  historical  knowledge,  as  to 
state  his  own  views  of  history,  and  to  excite  an  interest  in  the 
study  of  it.  The  Inaugural  Lecture  was  a  definition  of  History  in 
general,  and  of  Modern  History  in  particular ;  the  eight  following 
Lectures  were  the  natural  expansion  of  this  definition  ;  and  the 
statement  of  such  leading  difficulties  as  he  conceived  a  student 
would  meet  in  the  study  first  of  the  external  life,  and  then  of  the 
internal  life  of  nations.  They  were  also  strictly  "Lectures  :"  it  is 
not  an  author  and  his  readers,  but  the  Professor  and  his  hearers, 
that  are  brought  before  us.  Throughout  the  course,  but  especially 
in  its  various  digressions,  is  to  be  discerned  his  usual  anxiety,- — in 
this  case  almost  as  with  a  prophetic  foreboding,— to  deliver  his  tes- 
timony before  it  was  too  late  on  the  subjects  next  his  heart ;  which 

1  "  February  2,  Wednesday.  Dined  in  hall  at  Oriel,  and  met  Newman.  Evening 
at  Hawkins's." — Entry  from  MS.  Journal. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


411 


often  imparts  to  them  at  once  the  defect  and  the  interest  of  the  out- 
pouring of  his  natural  conversation.  And  again,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered, that  they  were  addressed  not  to  the  world,  but  to  Oxford  ; 
no  one  but  an  Oxford  man  could  have  delivered  them — no  one  but 
an  Oxford  man  could  thoroughly  enter  into  them  ;  it  was  the  wants 
of  Oxford  that  he  endeavoured  to  supply,  the  tendencies  of  Oxford 
that  he  presupposed,  the  scenery  of  Oxford  that  supplied  his  illus- 
trations. But  with  these  allowances,  they  are  not  a  fragment  but 
a  whole,  not  brought  together  at  random,  but  based  upon  a  regular 
plan  ;  though,  from  their  peculiarly  personal  and  local  character, 
they  will  probably  never  be  read  with  an  interest  equal  to  that 
with  which  they  were  heard. 

Having  made  this  introduction  to  his  Professorial  duties,  he 
felt  that  those  duties  themselves  were  yet  to  begin.  Their  details, 
of  course,  were  not  yet  fixed  in  his  own  mind,  or,  so  far  as  they 
were  contemplated  by  him,  would  have  been  open  to  subsequent 
modifications.  But  their  general  outline  had  already  assumed  a 
definite  shape.  So  long  as  he  remained  at  Rugby,  his  visits  must 
necessarily  have  been  confined  to  little  more  than  three  weeks 
every  year,  a  disadvantage  which  seemed  to  him  in  some  measure 
counterbalanced  by  the  influence 'and  opportunities  of  his  station 
as  Head-master  of  a  great  public  school.  During  these  periods^ 
which  would  have  been  extended  after  his  retirement  from  Rugby r 
he  intended  to  give  his  regular  course  of  Lectures,  which  were 
naturally  the  chief,  but  not  in  his  judgment  the  only  duty  of  his 
office.  It  was  his  hope  to  excite  a  greater  interest  in  History  gen- 
erally than  existed  in  the  University  ;  and  with  a  view  to  this  it 
had  been  his  intention,  when  he  first  accepted  the  chair, — an  in- 
tention which  was  subsequently  suspended  during  the  reconsider- 
ation of  the  Statutes  of  the  Professorship,— to  devote  the  salary,  so 
long  as  he  remained  at  Rugby,  to  the  foundation  of  scholarships  in 
Modern  History.  Even  of  the  Lectures  themselves,  as  of  his 
school-lessons  at  Rugby,  he  felt  that  "  they  may  assist  our  efforts, 
but  can  in  no  way  supersede  them."  And,  accordingly,  in  the 
last  Lecture  he  mentioned  the  various  authorities  connected  with 
the  subject  of  his  intended  course  for  'the  next  year,  in  "  the  hope 
that  many  might  thus  co-operate,  and  by  their  separate  researches 
collect  what  no  one  man  could  have  collected  alone  ;"  knowing 
that  if  "  any  one  shall  learn  any  thing  from  me,  he  may  be  sure 
also  that  he  may  impart  something  to  me  in  return,  of  which  I  was 
ignorant." 

And  further,  he  looked  forward  to  the  position  belonging  to  him, 
not  merely  as  a  lecturer  in  History,  but  as  one  of  the  Professorial 
body  in  Oxford,  to  the  insight  which  he  should  gain  into  the  feel- 
ings of  the  place,  to  the  influence  which  he  might  exercise  by 
intercourse  with  the  younger  students,  and  to  the  share  which  he 
might  take  amongst  the  leading  members  of  the  University,  in  at- 
tempting to  carry  out  some  of  those  academical  changes  which  he 
had  long  had  at  heart.    Nor  did  he  overlook,  in  the  existing  state 


412 


LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 


of  Oxford,  the  importance  of  his  station  as  a  counterpoise  to  what 
he  believed  to  be  its  evil  tendencies,  though  at  the  same  time  it 
was  in  full  sincerity  that  he  assured  his  audience,  in  his  parting 
address  to  them,  "  He  must  be  of  a  different  constitution  from  mine, 
who  can  wish,  in  the  discharge  of  a  public  duty  in  our  common 
University,  to  embitter  our  academical  studies  with  controversy,  to 
excite  angry  feelings  in  a  place  where  he  has  never  met  with  any 
thing  but  kindness,  a  place  connected  in  his  mind  with  recollec- 
tions, associations,  and  actual  feelings,  the  most  prized  and  the 
most  delightful." 

With  regard  to  the  subject  of  his  Lectures,  it  was  his  intention 
to  deliver  a  yearly  course  of  at  least  eight  Lectures,  in  which  he 
was  to  endeavour  to  do  for  English  History  what  Guizot  iir  his 
Lectures  on  the  Civilization  of  France  had  begun  for  French  His- 
tory. His  first  design  had  been,  as  has  already  appeared,  to  have 
started  with  the  15th  century.  But  upon  its  being  represented  to 
him  that  this  could  hardly  be  taken  as  a  fair  representation  of  the 
middle  ages,  he  finally  resolved  on  the  plan  which  he  announced 
in  his  last  Lecture,  of  commencing  with  the  14th  century,  not  as 
being  equally  with  the  13th  century  a  complete  specimen  of  the 
system  in  Europe  generally,  bat  as  being  the  period  in  which 
English  institutions  and  characters  first  acquire  any  especial  inter- 
est, and  so  more  fitted  for  the  design  of  his  own  Lectures. 

Ln  these  successive  courses  he  would  have  been  enabled  to 
include  not  only  many  new  fields  of  inquiry,  but  most  of  those  sub- 
jects which  had  been  long  the  subjects  of  his  study  and  interest,  and 
which  he  had  only  been  withheld  from  treating  by  want  of  time 
and  opportunity.  His  early  studies  of  the  contest  of  Charles  the 
Bold  and  of  Louis  XL,  and  of  the  fate  of  John  Huss  and  Jerome  of 
Prague,  of  which  his  mind  had  always  retained  a  lively  impression  ; 
— his  somewhat  later  studies  of  the  times  of  the  English  Reforma- 
tion, in  which  he  used  to  say  it  was  necessary,  above  all  other  his- 
torical periods,  "  not  to  forget  the  badness  of  the  agents  in  the 
goodness  of  the  cause,  or  the  goodness  of  the  cause  in  the  badness 
of  the  agents  ;" — would  here  have  found  their  proper  places.  He 
had  long  desired,  and  now  doubtless  would  have  endeavoured 
fully  to  describe  the  reigns  of  the  two  first  Georges,  "  the  deep 
calm  of  the  first  seventy  years  of  the  eighteenth  century,"  which, 
as  "  the  abused  trial  *ime  of  modern  Europe,  and  as  containing 
within  itself  the  seeds  of  our  future  destiny,"  had  always  had  such 
a  hold  upon  his  interest,  that  at  one  time  he  was  on  the  point  of 
sacrificing  to  a  detailed  exposition  of  this  period  even  his  History 
•of  Rome.  And  here,  also,  he  would  have  aimed  at  realizing  some 
of  those  more  general  views,  for  which  his  office  would  have  given 
him  ample  scope — his  long  cherished  intention  of  bringing  the  "  Poli- 
tics" of  his  favourite  Aristotle  to  bear  on  the  problems  of  modern 
times  and  countries,— his  anxiety  to  call  public  attention  to  the 
social  evils  of  the  lower  classes  in  England,  which  he  would  have 
tried  to  analyze  and  expose  in  the  process  of  their  formation  and 


LIFE  OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  413 

growth, — his  interest  in  tracing  the  general  laws  of  social  and  po- 
litical science,  and  the  symptoms  of  advancing  age  in  the  human 
race  itself;  and  his  longing  desire,  according  to  his  idea1  of  what 
the  true  history  of  the  Church  should  be,  of  unfolding  all  the  vari- 
ous elements,  physical  and  intellectual,  social  and  national,  by 
which  the  moral  character  of  the  Christian  world  has  been  affected, 
and  of  comparing  the  existing  state  of  European  society  with  the 
ideal  Church  in  the  Apostolical  age,  or  in  his  own  anticipations  of 
the  remote  future. 

This  was  to  be  his  ordinary  course.  The  statutes  of  his  Pro- 
fessorship required,  in  addition,  terminal  lectures  on  Biography. 
In  these,  accordingly, — though  intending  to  diversify  them  by  oc- 
casional lectures  on  general  subjects,  such  as  Art  or  Language,— 
he  meant  to  furnish,  as  it  were,  the  counterpoise  to  the  peculiarly 
English  and  political  element  in  his  regular  course,  by  giving  not 
national,  but  individual  life,  not  British,  bnt  European  History.  Thus 
the  first  was  to  have  been  on  "  The  Life  and  Time  of  Pope  Gregory 
the  First,  or  the  Great,"  as  the  name  that  stands  at  the  opening  of 
the  history  of  Christian  Europe.  The  next  would  have  been 
Charlemagne,  whose  coronation  he  had  already  selected  as  the 
proper  termination  of  ancient  History ;  and  along  with  or  succeed- 
ing him,  the  Life  of  Alfred.  What  names  would  have  followed 
can  only  be  conjectured.  But  he  had  intended  to  devote  one  lecture 
to  Dante,  in  the  fourteenth  century  ;  and  there  can  be  no  doubt, 
without  speculating  on  the  wide  field  of  later  times,  that  one  such 
biography  would  have  described  "  the  noblest  and  holiest  of  mon- 
archs,  Louis  IX.  ;"  and  that  he  would  have  taken  this  opportunity 
of  recurring  to  the  eminent  Popes  of  the  middle  ages,  Gregory  VII. 
and  Innocent  III.,  whose  characters  he  had  vindicated  in  his  earlier 
works,2  long  before  that  great  change  in  the  popular  view  respect- 
ing them,  which  in  this,  as  in  many  other  instances,  he  had  fore- 
stalled at  a  time  when  his  opinion  was  condemned  as  the  height 
of  paradox. 

How  far  any  or  all  of  these  plans  would  have  been  realized, — 
what  effect  they  would  have  had  upon  the  University  or  upon 
English  literature — what  would  have  been  the  result  of  his  coming 
into  personal  contact  with  men,  whom  he  had  up  to  this  time 
known  or  regarded  only  as  the  representatives  of  abstract  systems, 
— how  far  the  complete  renewal  of  his  intercourse  with  Oxford 
would  have  brought  him  that  pleasure,  which  he  fondly  antici- 
pated from  it, — are  questions  on  which  it  is  now  useless  to  specu- 
late. The  Introductory  Lectures  were  to  be  invested  with  the 
solemnity  of  being  the  last  words  which  he  spoke  in  his  beloved 
University.  The  expressions,  always  habitual  to  him,  but  in  this 
volume  occurring  with  more  than  usual  frequency : — "  if  I  am 
allowed  to  resume  these  lectures  next  year" — "  if  life  and  health 

1  See  Sermons,  vol.  iv.  p.  111. 

2  Pamphlet  on  "  the  Roman  Catholic  Claims,"  in  1829,  and  on  "the  Principles  of 
Church  Reform,"  in  1833. 


414  LIFE  °F  DR.  ARNOLD. 

be  spared  me" — "  if  God  shall  permit,"  were  to  be  justified  by  his 
own  unexpected  call ;  the  anxiety  which  he  describes,  when  a 
man  is  cut  off  by  sudden  death,  "  to  know  whether  his  previous 
words  or  behaviour  indicated  any  sense  of  his  corning  fate,"  was  to 
be  exemplified  in  his  own  case  to  the  very  letter.1 


CCXC.       TO    REV.   DR.  HAWKINS. 

Rugby,  December  4,  1841. 

I  thank  you  very  much  for  your  notices  of  my  lecture.  With  regard  to 
the  influence  of  the  Jews,  I  could  not  have  noticed  that  as  a  new  element, 
because  it  has  already  been  at  work  before,  and  I  was  considering  merely 
what  prospect  there  was  of  any  new  race  arising,  to  add  a  new  power  to 
those  which  have  hitherto  been  in  operation. 

With  regard  to  the  other  two  points,  I  am  afraid  that  there  will  be  a  differ- 
ence between  us,  though  I  am  not  sure  how  far  we  differ  as  to  the  object  of 
a  state.  I  liked  the  first  part  of  Gladstone's  book  as  to  its  conclusions,  though 
I  did  not  much  like  all  his  arguments.  In  the  second  part  I  differed  from 
him  utterly. 

I  did  not  mean  to  say  any  thing  about  the  Church  more  than  might,  be 
said  by  all  persons  of  whatever  opinions,  nor  more,  indeed,  than  is  implied 
by  the  very  fact  of  an  Establishment.  I  do  not  think  that  my  words  said 
any  thing  about  the  Church  being  an  instrument  in  the  State's  hand,  either, 
expressly  or  by  implication.  Certainly,  I  did  not  mean  to  say  a  word  on 
that  topic  which  could  give  suspicion  to  any  one ;  for  of  course  it  was  my 
desire  to  have  at  any  rate  a  peaceable  beginning. 

We  both  enjoyed  our  day  extremely,  and  it  has  given  me  a  very  good 
heart  for  my  next  appearance  in  Oxford.  We  got  home  about  eleven  and 
found  all  well.  We  have  still  more  than  a  fortnight  before  we  start  for 
Westmoreland. 


CCXCI.       TO    THE    REV.    F.    C.    BLACKSTONE. 

Rugby,  December  17,  1841. 

I  believe  that  my  Professorship  pleases  «me  even  more 

than  that  of  Ecclesiastical  History,  even  with  a  Stall  at  Christ  Church  added 
to  it.  I  do  not  wish  to  leave  Rugby  yet,  as  the  income  of  a  stall  would  not 
enable  me  to  educate  my  sons  nearly  as  well  as  I  can  do  at  present,  besides 
the  extreme,  comfort  of  having  their  school  education  completed  under  my 
own  teaching.  And  then  Modern  History  embraces  all  that  I  most  want 
to  touch  upon  in  Ecclesiastical  History,  and  has  much  besides  of  the  deepest 
interest  to  me,  which  I  could  not  have  included  under  the  other.  I  cannot 
tell  you  the  delight  which  I  have  in  being  able  to  speak  at  Oxford  on  the 
points  which  I  am  so  fond  of;  and  my  Inaugural  Lecture  was  so  kindly 
received  that  it  gives  me  great  hopes  of  being  able  to  do  something.  I  do 
dread  the  conflict  of  opinions  in  which  I  must  be  more  or  less  involved ;  but 
then  I  also  feel  that  the  cause,  which  I  earnestly  believe  to  be  that  of 
Christ's  faith,  wants  all  the  support  in  Oxford  which  it  can  get ;  and  from 
my  numerous  pupils  I  have  some  peculiar  advantages,  which  hardly  any 
one  else  could  have. 

1  Lectures  on  Modern  History,  first  edition,  pp.  155,  139,  151. 


LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD.  415 


CCXCII.      *  TO    THE    REV.    R.    THORPE. 

Fux  How,  Christmas  Day,  1841. 

I  thank  you  very  much  for  the  extracts  which  you  have  sent  me,  and 
still  more  for  your  kind  letter.  I  often  think  that  I  should  be  better  qualified 
to  assist  those  who  are  in  doubt  as  to  these  questions,  if  I  could  understand 
what  there  is  in  the  opposite  opinions  which  recommends  itself  particularly 
to  the  mind.  I  can  understand,  for  instance,  the  Calvinistic  and  Arminian 
controversy,  both  sides  appearing  to  me  to  have  something  in  their  favour 
both  in  Scripture  and  in  Philosophy,  although  I  think  not  equally.  But  here 
I  cannot  perceive  what  is  the  temptation,  i.  e.  what  ground  of  Scripture  or  of 
reason,  what  need  of  the  human  mind, — nay,  even  what  respectable  weakness 
there  is,  which  craves  the  support  of  those  opinions  to  which  I  am  so  opposed. 
I  am  well  aware  that  there  must  be  something  to  fascinate  such  minds  as  I 
have  known  overcome  by  them.  But  I  never  yet  have  been  able  to  make 
out  what  it  is  ;  and,  being  thus  painfully  out  of  sympathy  with  the  persons 
so  affected,  I  am  unable  to  be  of  the  service  to  them  which  I  could  wish  to 
be.  And  this  may  account  to  you  at  least,  for  any  thing  which  may  seem 
harsh  or  over-positive  in  my  writing  against  them.  It  is  difficult  to  speak 
hesitatingly  on  points  which  you  feel  to  be  the  most  clear  and  certain  truths 
in  existence ;  and  it  is  difficult  to  speak  with  consideration  of  what  appears 
to  you  not  error  merely,  but  error  absolutely  unaccountable — error  so  extra- 
ordinary as  to  appear  equivalent  to  an  absolute  delusion.  And  therefore 
you  will  do  me  a  great  service  if  ever  you  can  make  me  understand  what  is 
the  attractive  side  of  these  opinions — attractive,  I  mean,  to  those  who  believe 
and  are  familiar  with  the  Scriptures,  and  therefore  are  persuaded  that  they 
hold  already,  as  far  as  their  own  sin  and  infirmity  will  allow  them,  all  that 
hope  and  strength  and  comfort — and  these  resting  immediately  on  a  Divine 
Author, — which  these  opinions  would  give  us  through  a  human  or  formal 
medium.  Many  years  ago  Keble  told  me  that  the  sin  forbidden  to  us  by  the 
second  commandment  was,  he  thought,  the  having  recourse  to  unauthorized 
mediators  or  means  of  approach  to  God.  Now  the  whole  of  these  opinions 
seem  to  me  to  be  susceptible  of  this  definition,  that  they  contain  a  great 
variety  of  ways  of  breaking  the  second  commandment,  and  nothing  else. 


CCXCIII.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Fox  How.  December26,  1841. 

I  will  say  nothing  about  the  Oxford  contest,  nor  about  the 

matters  connected  with  it,  only  asking  you  to  consider  your  expression  about 
"  descending  all  the  way  to  my  level"  in  religious  opinions.  Is  it  not  rather 
assuming  the  question  to  call  my  views  low  and  the  opposite  ones  high? 
You  know  that  I  should  urge  the  authority  of  St.  Paul  for  reversing  the 
epithets,  according  to  his  language  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians.  Neither 
are  my  opinions  properly  low  as  to  Church  authority.  I  am  for  High  Church, 
but  no  Priest ;  that  is,  I  no  more  entertain  a  low  sense  of  the  Church,  by 
denying  the  right  and  power  of  the  Priesthood,  than  I  entertain  a  low  sense 
of  the  State  or  ofLaw,  because  I  deny  the  authority  of  rvgdwiStq,  or  of  those 
oligarchies  which  Aristotle  calls  dwdartim.  I  am  not  saying  whether  I  am 
right  or  wrong,  only  contending  that  the  opposite  views  have  no  right  to  be 
called  high  in  comparison  with  mine,  either  religiously  or  ecclesiastically. 

I  will  remember  what  you  say  about  Vincentius  Lirinensis,  and  will  see 
the  passage  in  Bishop  Jebb ;  but  I  doubt  excessively  his  references  to  all 
the  men  to  whom  he  appeals.  Of  course  every  body  would  allow  that 
"  Quod  plerumque,  quod  a  pluribus"  &c,  is  an  authority,  and  that  I  have 
admitted ;  but  the  question  is,  whether  it  be  a  paramount  authority. 

Wordsworth  is  in  high  force,  and  I  hope  that  we  shall  see  much  of  him  while 


416  LIFE   OP   DR.  ARNOLD. 

we  are  here.  The  country  is  in  most  perfect  beauty.  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
much  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  all  the  conclusion  of  your  letter ;  and  I  trust 
that  I  shall  enter  into,  and  act  in  the  spirit  of  it.  But  how  startling  is  it  to 
see  how  quietly  opposite  opinions  lie  side  by  side,  so  long  as  neither  are  en- 
tertained keenly ;  but,  when  both  become  deep  and  real  convictions,  then 
toleration  is  no  longer  easy.  I  dreamt  some  years  ago  of  a  softening  of  the 
opposition  between  Roman  Catholics  and  Protestants,  having  been  beguiled 
by  the  apparent  harmony  subsisting  between  them,  while  the  principles  of 
both  were  slumbering.  But  I  do  not  dream  of  it  now ;  for  the  principles  are 
eternally  at  variance,  and  now  men  are  beginning  to  feel  their  principles, 
and  act  on  them.  I  should  not  now  be  surprised  if  I  live  to  see  a  time  of 
persecution ;  and  the  histories  of  the  old  martyrs  appear  to  me  now  things 
which  we  may  ourselves  be  called  upon  to  realize,  for  wherever  men  are 
not  indifferent,  I  doubt  greatly  whether  they  are  much  advanced  in  charity. 


CCXCIV.      TO    THE    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 
(With  regard  to  difficulties  in  the  statutes  of  the  Professorship.) 

Fox  How,  December  26,  1841. 

The  matter  lies  in  a  short  compass,  the  present  regulations 


could  not  be  observed  without  injury  to  the  University,  if  I  were  resident  al- 
together and  had  nothing  to  do  with  Rugby.  Twenty  Lectures  a  year,  if 
they  are  to  be  such  as  a  Professor  of  History  in  Oxford  ought  to  give,  can- 
not be  prepared  in  a  year.  I  could  give  fifty,  on  the  other  hand,  or  any 
number  which  might  be  required,  if  I   made  my  course  an  abridgment  of 

all  Modern  History, collected  apparently  from  some  popular 

book  like  Russell.  My  object  would  be  to  give  eight  Lectures  every  year 
like  Guizot's  on  French  History,  for  the  history,  chiefly  the  internal  history 
of  England,  beginning  at  the  fifteenth  century.  It  would  be  a  work  for  my 
life,  and  eight  Lectures  a  year  would  be,  I  am  sure,  as  much  as  any  man 
could  give  with  advantage.  My  present  course  will  be  introductory,  on  the 
method  of  reading  History ;  and  this  too,  will  consist  of  eight  Lectures. 
Now  I  am  willing  to  go  on  with  the  present  regulations,  if  the  University 
think  it  advisable,  provided  always,  that  I  am  required  to  take  no  oath  about 
them ;  because  then  as  much  of  the  salary  may  be  forfeited  now,  as  the 
Vice-Chancellor  may  think  proper,  and  the  question  of  reducing  the  number 
of  Lectures  may  he  considered  at  leisure,  before  I  come  to  leave  Rugby. 
But  feeling  earnestly  desirous  to  do  the  duty  of  the  Professorship  efficiently, 
and  believing  that  I  can  do  it,  I  tbink  I  may  ask  the  sanction  of  the  Univer- 
sity authorities  for  an  application  to  the  Government  about  the  regulations, 
to  have  them  altered  as  regards  the  number  of  Lectures,  and,  I  think,  also, 
to  take  away  the  oath,  if  such  a  thing  be  not  required  of  other  Professors. 
In  the  last  century,  there  was  a  sad  recklessness  in  requiring  oaths  on  all 
occasions  worthy  or  unworthy;  but  there  is  a  better  feeling  now  prevalent. 

.  .  .  .  and  I  should  hope  to  show  that  without  the  oath  the  duty  might 
he  done  effectually. 

In  the  meantime  this  uncertainty  is  very  inconvenient, 'because  we  have 
actually  engaged  our  house  in  Oxford,  and  I  shall  have  enough  to  do  to 
finish  my  Lectures  in  time  if  they  are  wanted,  and,  if  they  are  not  wanted, 

I  can  ill  afford  the  time  to  work  upon  them But  this  cannot  be, 

helped,  only  the  oath  is  a  serious  matter  ;  and  if  I  am  required  to  take  it  to 
the  regulations  attached  to  my  patent,  1  have  no  alternative  but  to  refuse  it 
most  positively.  We  are  all  well  here,  and  have  the  most  beautiful  wea- 
ther ;  the  mountain  tops  all  covered  with  snow,  and  all  their  sides  and  the 
valleys  rich  with  the  golden  ferns  and  the  brown  leaves  of  the  oaks. 

[The  regulations  in  question  were  found  not  to  be  in  force.] 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  4^7 


CCXCV.      TO    MR.    JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Fox  How,  December  31,  1841. 

[After  explaining  the  difficulties  about  the  Professorship.]  1  do  not  like 
undertaking  more  than  lean  do,  or  being  thought  to  do  the  work  of  my  place 
inefficiently.  And  I  would  rather  give  up  the  Professorship  a  hundred 
times  than  to  be  thought  to  make  a  job  of  it.  Yet  I  do  value  it  very  much, 
and  look  forward  to  having  great  parties  of  the  young  men  of  the  various 
great  schools  with  no  small  pleasure.  I  shall  ask  our  Ro^by  men  to  bring 
their  friends  of  other  schools,  when  they  are  good  men.  And  I  hope  to 
see  some  of  my  boys  and  girls  well  bogged  in  the  middle  of  Bagley  Wood. 
It  is  the  last  night  of  the  year.  May  the  new  year  begin  and  go  on  happily 
with  us  both,  and  I  think  that  at  our  age,  we  begin  to  feel  that  the  word 
"  happy"  has  no  light  meaning,  and  requires  more  than  mere  worldly  pros- 
perity or  enjoyment  to  answer  to  its  signification.  Our  family  greetings  to 
all  yours. 


CCXCVI.       TO    THE    SAME. 

Fox  How,  January  9,  1842. 

I  have  nearly  finished  six  Lectures,  although  I  scarcely 

know  whether  I  shall  deliver  them.  If  I  do  go  up  to  O  ford,  many  things, 
I  can  assure  you,  have  been  in  my  thoughts,  which  I  wished  gradually  to 
call  men's  attention  to  ;  one  in  particular,  which  seems  to  me  a  great  scan- 
dal, the  debts  contracted  by  the  young  men,  and  their  backwardness  in  pay- 
ing them.  I  think  that  no  part  of  this  evil  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  tradesmen, 
because  so  completely  are  the  tradesmen  at  the  mercy  of  the  under-gradu- 
ates,  that  no  man  dares  refuse  to  give  credit;  if  he  did,  his  shop  would  be 
abandoned.  The  Colleges  take  care  to  secure  themselves  by  requiring 
caution  money,  and  other  expedients ;  and  I  cannot  but  think,  that  their  au- 
thority might  be  exerted  to  compel  payment  to  tradesmen  with  nearly  the 
same  regularity  as  they  exact  their  own  battells. 


CCXCVII.       TO    THE    REV.    J.    HEARN. 

Fox  How,  January  17,  1842. 

I  do  not  like  to  leave  your  kind  letters  unanswered,  lest  you  should  think 
that  I  am  indifferent  to  receiving  them,  which  would  be  most  far  from  the 
truth ;  and  yet  I  have  been  so  busy,  and  still  am.  that  it  not  only  makes  it 
difficult  to  find  time  to  write  letters,  but  it  makes  them  not  worth  reading 
when  they  are  written,  because  it  so  engrosses  me  with  one  or  two  pursuits 
that  it  leaves  me  nothing  to  communicate  which  can  be  of  interest  to  others. 
Next  week,  I  suppose,  our  life  will  have  variety  and  excitement  enough, 
when  we  go  up  to  Oxford,  with  all  our  family,  and  are  established  at  our 
house  in  Beaumont  Street,  which  we  have  taken  for  three  weeks.  Never- 
theless, I  prefer  writing  from  the  delicious  calm  of  this  place,  where  the 
mountains  raise  their  snowy  tops  into  the  clear  sky  by  this  dim  twilight, 
with  a  most  ghost-like  solemnity ;  and  nothing  is  heard,  far  or  near,  except 
the  sound  of  the  stream  through  the  valley.  I  have  been  walking  to-day  to 
Windermere,  and  went  out  on  a  little  rude  pier  of  stones  into  the  lake,  to 
watch  what  is  to  me  one  of  the  most  beautiful  objects  in  nature,  the  life  of 
blue  water  amidst  a  dead  landscape  of  snow ;  the  sky  was  bright,  and  the 
wind  fresh,  and  the  lake  was  dancing  and  singing  as  it  were,  Avhile  all  along 
its  margin  lay  the  dead  snow,  covering  every  thing  but  the  lake, — plains  and 
valleys  and  mountains.  I  have  admired  the  same  thing  more  than  once  by 
the  sea  side,  and  there  the  tide  gives  another  feature  in  the  broad  band  of 


418  LIFE   OF    DR.  ARNOLD. 

brown  shingles  below  high-water  mark,  interposed  between  the  snow  and 
the  water.  We  have  been  here  more  than  three  weeks,  and,  as  it  always 
does,  the  place  has  breathed  a  constant  refreshment  on  me,  although  I  have 
never  worked  harder ;  having  done  six  of  my  Lectures,  besides  a  large  cor- 
respondence about  the  school  matters,  as  usual  in  the  holidays.  I  have,  in 
all,  written  seven  Lectures,  and  leave  one  more  to  be  written  in  Oxford,  and 

this  last  week  I  hope  to  devote  to  my  History We  have 

been  all  well,  and  as  my  children  grow  up,  we  are  so  large  and  companion- 
able, a  party,  that  we  need  no  society  out  of  ourselves.  This  is  a  great 
change  in  later  married  life,  when  your  table  is  always  full  without  compa- 
ny, and  you  live  in  the  midst  of  a  large  party.  And  I  am  sure  that  its  effect 
is  to  make  you  shrink  from  other  society,  which  is  not  wanted  to  enliven 
you,  and  which,  added  to  a  large  family  in  the  house,  becomes  almost  fa- 
tiguing. 

I  will  say  nothing  of  my  deep  interest  in  this  Oxford  election,  and  in  the 
progress  of  the  Newmanite  party,  on  which  so  many  seem  to  look  either 
complacently  or  stupidly,  who  yet  cannot  really  sympathize  with  it.  But  I 
shall  see  and  hear  enough,  and  more  than  enough,  of  all  this  during  my 

stay  in  Oxford I  half  envy  you  your  farming  labours,  and 

wish  you  all  manner  of  success  in  them.  I  could  enter  with  great  delight 
into  planting,  but  I  am  never  here  at  the  right  season,  and  at  Rugby  I  have 
neither  the  time  nor  the  ground. 


CCXCVI1I.      TO    REV.    HERBERT    HILL. 

Oxford,  February  9,  1842. 

If  Mrs.  Nichols1  is  alive  and  sensible,  both  my  wife  and 

I  would  wish  to  give  her  our  affectionate  remembrances.  I  can  quite  feel 
what  you  say,  as  to  the  good  of  sitting  by,  and  watching  her  patience.     It 

is  a  great  lesson  to  le-arn  how  to  die Our  stay  here  has 

even  surpassed  my  expectations,  and  the  country  is  more  beautiful  than  my 
recollections,  but  my  keen  enjoyment  of  it  makes  me  satisfied  that  my  dis- 
like of  the  Rugby  country  proceeds  from  no  fond  contrast  with  Westmore- 
land, but  from  its  own  unsurpassable  dulness.  I  was  to  day  in  the  valley 
behind  S.  Hincksey,  and  in  the  thickets  of  Bagley  Wood.  I  went  up  to  town 
to  see  the  King  of  Prussia  at  Bunsen's,  and  there  met  both  Maurice  and 
Carlyle.  We  go  down  on  Friday.  All  join  in  kindest  regards  to  Mrs.  Hill, 
and  in  love  to  the  babies,  begging  Katie's  pardon  for  the  affront  of  so  calling 
her. 


CCXCIX.      TO    AN    OLD    PUPIL.      (k.) 

Oxford,  February  9,  1842. 

I  think  the  question  of  the  expediency  of  your  residing 

for  some  time  at  Oxford  is  rather  difficult.  But  on  the  whole,  unless  you 
have  some  special  object  in  coming  here  which  I  do  not  know,  I  think  that 
I  should  advise  against  it.  This  place  appears,  at  this  moment,  to  be  over- 
ridden with  one  only  influence,  which  is  so  predominant  that  one  must 
either  yield  to  it,  or  be  living  in  a  state  of  constant  opposition  to  those 
around  one,  a  position  not  very  agreeable.  Besides,  are  you  not  already 
engaged  more  usefully  both  to  yourself  and  others,  than  you  could  be  here, 
and  reading  what  you  do  read  in  a  healthier  atmosphere  ?  I  say  this,  but  yet 
there  is  not  a  man  alive  who  loves  this  place  better  than  I  do,  and  I  have 

1  A  poor  woman  near  Fox  How. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  419 

enjoyed  our  fortnight's  stay  here  even  more  than  I  expected.  I  have  heen 
in  no  feuds  or  controversies,  and  have  met  with  nothing  but  kindness  ;  but 
then  my  opinions  are  so  well  known,  that  they  are  allowed  for  as  a  matter  of" 
course,  so  that  my  difficulty  here  is  less  than  that, of  most  men.  We  go 
downlo  Rugby  on  Friday,  when  the  school  meets.  It  always  gives  me  real 
pleasure  to  hear  from  you,  nor  would  I  answer  you  so  briefly  if  I  were  not 
overwhelmed  with  work  of  various  kinds,  which  leaves  me  not  a  moment  to 
spare,  insomuch  that  Rugby  will  be  almost  a  relaxation. 


CCC.      TO    MR.   JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  March  3,  1842. 

[After  speaking  of  the  statutes  of  the  Professorship.]  What  the  Uni- 
versity itself  drew  up  so  lately,  and,  which  has  never  been  more  than  an 
utter  dead  letter,  may,  I  should  think,  be  well  altered  by  the  University  now. 
But  this  I  should  wish  to  leave  entirely  to  the  Heads  of  Houses,  never  having 
had  the  slightest  wish  to  ask  any  thing  of  the  Government  as  a  personal  fa- 
vour to  myself,  and  still  less  any  thing  which  the  University  did  not  think 
desirable.  I  shall  write  again  to  Hawkins  immediately,  and.  if  the  Univer- 
sity wishes -things  to  remain  in  statu  quo,  even  let  it  be  so.  If  they  do  not 
tender  the  oath,  which  I  do  not  think  they  will,  I  shall  not  think  of  resigning, 
and  they  may  deal  with  the  salary  as  they  think  proper.  But  after  the  ex- 
perience which  I  had  this  term,  nothing  shall  induce  me  to  resign  so  long  as 
I  can  lawfully  hold  the  place,  and  so  long  as  the  University  itself  does  not 
wish  me  to  give  it  up.  Our  stay  in  Oxford  more  than  realized  all  my  hopes 
in  every  way.  I  do  not  mean  the  attendance  on  the  Lectures,  gratifying  as 
that  was,  but  the  universal  kindness  which  was  shown  to  us  all,  down  to 
Fan  and  Walter,  and  the  hearty  delight  with  which  I  went  over  my  old 
walks  with  the  children,  and  seemed  to  be  commencing  residence  once 
a^ain. 


CCCI.      TO    ARCHDEACON    HARF. 

Rugby,  March  18, 1842. 

I  thank  you  very  much  for  your  Charge,  and  for  the  kind  mention  of 
my  name,  and  the  sanction  given  to  what  I  have  said,  which  you  have  add- 
ed in  the  notes.  I  think  it  likely  that  if  I  were  in  your  situation,  or  in  any 
similar  office  in  the  Church,  my  sense  of  the  good  to  be  done,  even  under 
the  present  system,  and  of  the  necessity  of  being  myself  not  idle,  would  lead 
me  to  a  view  perhaps  more  exactly  agreeing  with  your  own.  As  it  is,  I  feel 
so  deeply  the  danger  and  evil  of  the  false  Church  system,  that  despairing 
of  seeing  the  true  Church  restored,  I  am  disposed  to  cling,  not  from  choice, 
but  necessity,  to  the  Protestant  tendency  of  laying  the  whole  stress  on 
Christian  Religion,  and  adjourning  the  notion  of  Church  sine  die.  .  .  . 
But  I  have  no  time  to  trouble  you  with  my  notions,  and  you  have  better 
things  to  do  than  to  read  them. 


CCCII.       *    TO    THE    REV.    H.    FOX. 
(Now  settled  as  a  Missionary  in  India.) 

Rugby,  April  10,  1842. 

I  thank  you  very  much  for  your  letter,  which  gave  me  a  very  comforta- 
ble account  of  you  and  yours.  Be  assured  that  I  shall  be  always  very 
thankful  to  you  for  writing  ;  nor  will  I  fail  to  answer  your  letters  ;  only  you 
will  remember  that  I  write  at  a  disadvantage,  having  nothing  to  communicate 


420  L1FE   0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

to  you  from  a  country  which  you  know  as  well  as  I  do,  to  be  compared  with 
the  interest  of  your  communications,  which  must  be  full  of  new  infor- 
mation to  one  who  has  never  been  in  India.  I  suppose  '  that  the  late  events 
in  Cabul  must  have  produced  a  strong  sensation  all  over  India.  They  are 
deeply  to  be  regretted,  and  very  painful  to  me  so  far  as  I  know  about  them, 
because  they  seem  to  have  been  brought  on  by  such  sad  misconduct.  Oth- 
erwise, the  magnitude  of  their  consequence  seems  to  be  overrated  by  many 
people ;  the  Indian  Empire,  I  believe,  will  stand  no  less  securely,  and  will 
have  the  opportunity,  whether  employed  or  wasted,  of  doing  great  things 
for  the  welfare  of  Asia. 

There  must  be  a  great  interest  in  having  to  deal  with  minds,  whose 
training  has  been  so  different  from  our  own.  though  it  would  be  to  me  a 
great  perplexity.  I  should  think  its  tendency  would  be  at  first  to  make  one 
skeptical,  and  then,  if  that  was  overcome,  to  make  one  fanatical.  I  mean 
that  it  must  be  startling  at  first  to  meet  with  many  persons  holding  as  truths, 
things  the  most  opposite  from  what  we  believe,  and  even  so  differing  from 
us  in  their  appreciation  of  evidence.  And  first,  this  would  incline  one,  I 
should  think,  to  mistrust  all  truth,  or  to  think  that  it  was  subjective  merely, 
one  truth  for  Europe,  and  another  for  India ;  then,  if  this  feeling  were  re- 
pelled, there  would  be  the  danger  of  maintaining  a  conclusion  which  yet 
one  did  not  feel  one  could  satisfactorily  prove, — the  resolving  that  a  thing 
shall  be  believed  by  the  mind  whether  reasonably  or  unreasonably.  I  should 
earnestly,  I  think,  look  out  in  a  Hindoo's  mind  for  those  points  which  he  had 
in  common  with  us,  and  see  if  the  enormous  differences  might  not  be  ex- 
plained, and  their  existence  accounted  for.  In  this  way  I  have  always  be- 
lieved in  the  existence  of  a  moral  sense  amongst  all  men.  in  spite  of  the 
tremendous  differences  in  the  notions  of  different  ages  and  countries  as  to 
right  and  wrong.  I  think  these  differences  may  be  explained,  and  that  they 
do  not  disprove  a  common  idea  of  and  appreciation  of  virtue,  as  consisting 
mainly  in  self-denial  and  love.  But  all  this  will  have  presented  itself  to  you 
often,  and  mine  is  but  hypothesis,  for  my  sole  acquaintance  has  been  with 
European  minds,  trained  more  or  less  in  the  same  school. 

You  would  be  glad  to  hear  of  the  flourishing  state  of  Rugby.  Highton 
is  permanently  settled  here  as  a  master.  The  school  have  subscribed  £130 
for  another  window  in  the  Chapel,  and  Frank  Penrose  has  looked  at  the 
roof,  and  given  us  apian  for  getting  rid  of  the  flat  roof,  which  has  long  been 
my  great  enemy.  Of  other  news,  I  know  none  so  good  as  that  Clough  is 
just  elected  at  Oriel,  which  all  his  friends  are  most  rejoiced  at. 

I  hear  flourishing  accounts  of  New  Zealand,  and  Bishop 

Selwyn,  who  has  gone  out  there,  seems  to  me  just  the  man  lor  such  a  place, 
— very  active  and  very  zealous.  I  suppose  that  you  will  see  Tucker  ere 
long,  as  I  find  he  is  returned  to  Madras.  We  are  doing  Elphinstone's  His- 
tory of  India  in  the  Sixth,  for  our  Modern  History  on  Thursdays,  as  I 
wished  to  make  the  fellows  know  something  of  India,  of  which  they  knew 
next  to  'nothing.  It  is  a  pity  that  Elphinstone  had  not  a  more  profound 
knowledge  of  the  ancient  western  world,  which  continually  illustrates  and 
is  illustrated  by  the  state  of  things  in  India.-  God  bless  you,  my  dear  Fox, 
and  prosper  your  work.  I  must  beg  you  to  offer  my  very  kind  regards  to 
Mrs.  Fox,  and  I  rejoiced  to  hear  of  the  birth  of  your  little  boy. 


CCCIII.      TO    CHEVALIER    BUNSEN. 

Rugby,  May  3,  1842. 

Since  our  return  from  Oxford,  we  have  been  living  in  a 

quiet,  which  offers  a  curious  contrast  to  your  life  in  London.    We  have  seen 

1   "  It  gives  me  a  pain  I  cannot  describe,"  he  said  in  one  of  his  latest  conversations, 
"  to  hear  of  all  this  misery  which  I  have  no  power  to  alleviate.     Yet  it  will  be  as  it  was 


LIFE  OF^R.  ARNOLD.  421 

fewer  people  than  usual ;  and  as  I  harely  ever  read  a  newspaper,  our 
thoughts  have  heen  very  much  kept  within  the  range  of  our  little  world 
here,  and  of  my  subjects  of  writing.  My  Lectures  will  be  published  in  a 
{ew  days,  and  you  shall  have  a  copy  immediately:  and  I  hope  to  give  an- 
other Lecture  in  Oxford  in  about  a  month,  on  the  Life  and  Times  of  Gre- 
gory the  First.  Is  there  any  good  German  work  on  that  special  subject?  I 
am  continually  wanting  to  apply  for  information  to  you,  but  1  know  that  you 
have  no  time  to  answer  me.  One  thing  I  will  ask, — whether  there  is  any 
good  information  to  be  had  about  the  Iberian  inscriptions  and  coins  still  to 
be  found  in  various  collections  ?  I  have  been  reading  or  referring  to  various 
Spanish  books, — Masdeu,  for  instance,  and  Velasquez, — but  they  seem  to 
me  worth  little.  By  the  way,  in  looking  into  Larramendi's  Basque  Grammar, 
I  was  delighted  to  find  the  long-lost  plural  of  "  Ego,"  and  singular  of 
"  Nos."  It  was  evident  that  Ego  and  Nos  had  made  a  sort  of  match  of 
convenience,  each  having  lost  its  original  partner  :  but  behold,  in  Basque 
"  gu  "  is  "  nos."  and  "  ni  "  or  "  neu  "  is  "  ego."  One  cannot  doubt,  1  think, 
that  "  ego  "  and  "  nos  "  have  here  found  their  lost  other  half.  I  hope  to 
finish  vol.  iii.  of  Rome  before  the  end  of  the  holidays ;  and  then,  in  the  last 
month  of  them,  my  wife  and  I  are  going,  I  believe,  to  have  a  run  abroad. 
I  do  not  know  where  we  shall  go  exactly,  but  I  think  very  likely  to  Greno- 
ble and  the  Val  d'Isere,  and  thence  to  Marseilles,  or  the  eastern  Pyrenees. 
If  I  can  get  to  Carthagena,  it  would  be  a  great  satisfaction  to  me ;  for  Po- 
lybius'  is  so  at  variance  with  Captain  Smyth's  Survey  of  the  present  town 
and  port,  that  it  is  utterly  perplexing.  This  is  better  than  nothing  in  the 
way  of  a  letter,  but  I  know  that  it  is  not  much :  however,  if  it  draws  even 
a  shorter  answer  from  you,  I  shall  be  thankful. 


CCCIV.       TO    THE    REV.    DR.    HAWKINS. 

Rugby,  May  19,  1842. 

I  beg  your  pardon  for  not  having  thanked  you  for  your  Sermon,  which  I 
had  not  only  received,  but  read,  and  read  with  very  great  pleasure.  I  am 
delighted  to  find  that  on  the  Priest  question,  which  I  think  is  the  funda- 
mental one  of  the  whole  matter,  we  are  quite  agreed.  And  I  am  also  not  a 
little  pleased  that  the  Archbishop  should  have  wished  a  sermon  to  be  print- 
ed, containing,  as  I  think,  so  much  truth,  and  truth  at  this  time  so  much 
needed.  I  will  fix,  as  there  seems  no  objection,  Thursday,  June  2,  at  one  p. 
m.,  for  my  Lecture ;  and  it  may  be  called,  if  you  please,  "  On  the  Life  and 
Times  of  Pope  Gregory  the  First,  or  the  Great."  The  materials  are  very  good 
and  plentiful,  if  I  had  but  more  time  to  work  af.them.  Thank  you  for  ac- 
cepting my  Dedication Carlyle  dined  and  slept  here  on 

Friday  last,  and  on  Saturday  we  went  over  with  my  wife  and  two  of  my 
boys  to  Naseby  field,  and  explored  the  scene  of  the  great  battle  very  satis- 
factorily. 


CCCV.       TO    MR.    JUSTICE    COLERIDGE. 

Rugby,  May  22, 1842. 

I  was  not  ignorant  of  what  was  going  on  about  the  Colo- 
nial Bishoprics  ;  but  you  can  well  understand  that  all  this  movement  wears 
to  me  rather  a  doubtful  aspect.  While  I  can  fully  enter  into  the  benefits  of 
giving  a  centre  of  government  where  there  was  none,  and  of  having  a  cler- 

with  the  Romans  in   Spain  ;    we  hear  often  of  '  csesus  consul  cum  legionibus,'  but  then 
the  next  year  another  consul  and  new  legions  go  out,  just  as  before." 


422  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

gyman  of  superior  rank,  and  probably  superior  acquirements,  made  an  es- 
sential part  in  tbe  society  of  a  rising  colony,  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  I  can- 
not but  know  that  the  principal  advocates  of  the  plan  support  it  on  far  other 
principles  ;— that  it  is  with  them  an  enforcing  their  dogma  of  the  necessity 
of  Succession-Episcopacy  to  a  true  Church  ;  that  accordingly  the  paper, 
which  you  sent  me,  speaks  of  the  "  Church  "  in  America  (U.  S.)  and  of  the 
various  "  Beets  "  there, — language  quite  consistent  in  the  mouths  of  High 
Churchmen,  but  which  assumes  as  a  truth,  what  I  hold  to  be  the  very 
).a/n7Ti>6raTov  xpivdoq  of  a  false  system.  I  feel,  therefore,  half  attracted  and 
half  repelled,  doubting  whether  the  practical  administrative  and  social  ad- 
vantages to  be  gained  are  likely  to  outweigh  the  encouragement  given  to 
what  T  believe  to  be  very  mischievous  error  ;  and  while  "  dubitatio  ista  non 
tollitur,"  I  cannot  feel  disposed  to  come  to  the  practical  conclusion  of  a 
subscription.  Believe  me,  it  is  no  pleasure  to  me  to  be  obliged  to  stand 
aloof  from  a  movement  which  has  so  much  of  good  in  it,  and  might  be  so 
purely  and  gloriously  good,  were  it  not . 


The  time  which  he  had  originally  fixed  for  his  retirement 
from  Rngby  was  now  drawing  near,  and  the  new  sphere  opened  to 
him  in  his  Professorship  at  Oxford,  seemed  to  give  a  fixedness  to 
his  future  prospects,  which  would  naturally  increase  his  long-cher- 
ished wishes  of  greater  leisure  and  repose.  But  he  still  felt  him- 
self in  the  vigour  of  life,  and  used  to  rejoice  in  the  thought  that 
the  forty-ninth  year,  fixed  by  Aristotle  as  the  acme  of  the  human 
faculties,  lay  still  some  years  before  him.  The  education  of  his 
two  younger  sons  was  a  strong  personal  inducement  to  him  to  re- 
main a  short  time  longer  in  his  situation.  His  professorial  labours 
were  of  course  but  an  appendage  to  his  duties  in  the  school,  and 
when  some  of  the  unforeseen  details  of  the  entrance  on  his  new  of- 
fice had  seemed  likely  to  deprive  him  of  the  place  which  he  had 
so  delighted  to  receive, — "  in  good  and  sober  truth,"  he  writes  to 
Archbishop  Whately,  "  I  believe  that  this  and  all  other  things  are 
ordered  far  more  wisely  than  I  could  order  them,  and  it  will  seem 
a  manifest  call  to  turn  my  mind  more  closely  to  the  great  work 
which  is  before  me  here  at  Rugby."  The  unusual  amount  also  of 
sickness  and  death  which  had  marked  the  beginning  of  the  school 
year,  naturally  gave  an  increased  earnestness  to  his  dealings  with 
the  boys.  His  latest  scholars  were  struck  by  the  great  freedom 
and  openness  with  which  he  spoke  to  them  on  more  serious  sub- 
jects,— the  more  directly  practical  applications  which  he  made  of 
their  Scriptural  lessons, — the  emphasis  with  which  he  called  their 
attention  to  the  contrast  between  Christian  faith  and  love,  and  that 
creed  of  later  Paganism,  which  made  "  the  feelings  of  man  to- 
wards the  Deity  to  be  exactly  those  with  which  we  gaze  at  a 
beautiful  sunset."  l  The  same  cause  would  occasion  those  fre- 
quent thoughts  of  death  which  appear  in  his  Chapel  Sermons,  and 
in  his  more  private  life  during  this  last  year.  There  had  never, 
indeed,  been  a  time  from  his  earliest  manhood,  in  which  the  un- 

1  MS.  Notes  of  his  lessons  on  Cic.  Div.  ii.  72. 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  423 

certainty  of  human  life  had  not  been  one  of  the  fixed  images  of 
his  mind  ;  and  many  instances  would  recur  to  all  who  knew 
him,  of  the  way  in  which  it  was  constantly  blended  with  all  his 
thoughts  of  the  future.  "  Shall  I  tell  you,  my  little  boy,"  he  once 
said  to  one  of  his  younger  children  whose  joyful  glee  at  the  ap- 
proaching holidays  he  had  gently  checked  ;  "  shall  I  tell  you  why 
I  call  it  sad  ?" — and  he  then  repeated  to  him  the  simple  story  of 
his  own  early  childhood  ;  how  his  own  father  had  made  him  read 
to  him  a  sermon  on  the  text,  "  Boast  not  thyself  of  to-morrow," 
on  the  very  Sunday  evening  before  his  sudden  death : — "  Now 
cannot  you  see,  when  you  talk  with  such  certainty  about  this  day 
week  and  what  we  shall  do,  why  it  seems  sad  to  me  ?" — But  it  was 
natural  that  such  expressions  should  have  been  more  often  re- 
marked by  those  who  heard  them  during  this  year,  even  had  they 
not  been  in  themselves  more  frequent.  "  It  is  one  of  the  most  sol- 
emn things  I  do,"  he  said  to  one  of  his  children,  who  asked  him  why, 
in  the  title-page  of  his  MS.  volume  of  Sermons,  he  always  wrote 
the  date  only  of  its  commencement,  and  left  a  blank  for  that  of  its 
completion,— "  to  write  the  beginning  of  that  sentence,  and  think 
that  I  may  perhaps  not  live  to  finish  it."  And  his  pupils  recollected 
the  manner  in  which  he  had  announced  to  them,  before  morning 
prayers,  the  unexpected  death  of  one  of  their  number :  "  We 
ought  all  to  take  to  ourselves  these  repeated  warnings ;  God,  in 
His  mercy,  sends  them  to  us.  I  say  in  His  rnercy,  because  they 
are  warnings  to  all  of  us  here, — we  ought  all  to  feel  them  as 
such," — adding  emphatically. — "and  I  am  sure  1  feel  it  so  my- 
self." 

Whatever  might  be  the  general  interest  of  this  closing  period, 
was  deepened  during  the  last  month  by  accidental  causes,  into 
which  it  is  not  necessary  to  enter,  but  which  became  the  means  of 
drawing  forth  all  the  natural  tenderness  of  his  character  more  ful- 
ly than  any  previous  passage  of  his  life.  There  was  something 
in  the  added  gentleness  and  kindness  of  his  whole  manner  and 
conversation, — watching  himself,  and  recalling  his  words,  if  he 
thought  they  would  be  understood  unkindly, — which  even  in  his 
more  general  intercourse,  would  make  almost  every  one  who  saw 
him  at  that  time  connect  their  last  recollections  of  him  with  some 
trait  of  thoughtfulness  for  others,  and  forgetfulness  of  himself ;  and 
which,  to  those  nearest  and  dearest  to  him,  seemed  to  awaken  a 
consciousness,  amounting  almost  to  awe,  of  a  visible  growth  in 
those  qualities  which  are  most  naturally  connected  with  the 
thought  of  another  world.  There  was  something  also  in  the  ex- 
pressions of  his  own  more  personal  feelings, — few  and  short  as 
they  ever  were,  but  for  that  reason  the  more  impressive  when  they 
did  escape  him, — which  stamped  them  with  a  more  than  usual  so- 
lemnity. Such  were  some  of  the  passages  in  a  private  diary, 
which  he  now  commenced  for  the  first  time,  but  not  known  till 
after  his  death  by  any,  except  her  who  alone  shared  his  inmost 
thoughts,  and  who  could  not  but  treasure  up  in  her  memory  every 


424  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

word  connected  with  the  beginning  of  this  custom.  It  was  about 
three  weeks  before  his  end,  whilst  confined  to  his  room  for  a  few 
days  by  an  attack  of  feverish  illness,  to  which,  especially  when  in 
anxiety,  he  had  always  from  time  to  time  been  liable,  that  he  call- 
ed her  to  his  bed-side>  and  expressed  to  her  how,  within  the  last 
few  days,  be  seemed  to  have  "  felt  quite  a  rush  of  love  in  his  heart 
towards  God  and  Christ;"  and  how  he  hoped  that  "all  this  might 
make  him  more  gentle  and  tender,"  and  that  he  might  not  soon 
lose  the  impression  thus  made  upon  him  ;  adding,  that,  as  a  help 
to  keeping  it  alive,  he  intended  to  write  something  in  the  evenings 
before  he  retired  to  rest. 

From  this  Diary,  written  the  last  thing  at  night,  not  daily,  but 
from  time  to  time  in  each  week,  it  has  been  thought  right  to  give 
the  following  extracts. 

May  22. — I  am  now  within  a  few  weeks  of  completing  my  forty-seventh 
year.  Am  I  not  old  enough  to  view  life  as  it  is,  and  to  contemplate 
steadily  its  end, — what  it  is  coming  to,  and  must  come  to — what  all  things 
are  without  God?  I  know  that  my  senses  are  on  the  very  eve  of  becoming 
weaker,  and  that  my  faculties  will  then  soon  begin  to  decline  too, — whether 
rapidly  or  not,  I  know  not — but  they  will  decline.  Is  there  not  one  faculty 
which  never  declines,  which  is  the  seed  and  the  seal  of  immortality ;  and 
what  has  become  of  that  faculty  in  me  ?  What  is  it  to  live  unto  God  ?  May 
God  open  my  eyes  to  see  Him  by  faith,  in  and  through  His  Son  Jesus  Christ: 
may  He  draw  me  to  Him.  and  keep  me  with  Him,  making  His  will  my  will, 
His  love  my  love,  His  strength  my  strength,  and  may  He  make  me  feel  that 
pretended  strength,  not  derived  from  Him,  is  no  strength,  but  the  worst 
weakness.     May  His  strength  be  perfected  in  my  weakness. 

Tuesday  evening,  May  24. — Two  days  have  passed,  and  I  am  mercifully 
restored  to  my  health  and  strength.  To-morrow  I  hope  to  be  able  to  re- 
sume my  usual  duties.     Now  then  is  the  dangerous  moment O 

gracious  Father,  keep  me  now  through  thy  Holy  Spirit:  keep  my  heart  soft 
and  tender  now  in  health  and  amidst  the  bustle  of  the  world :  keep  the 
thought  of  Thyself  present  to  me  as  my  Father  in  Jesus  Christ :  and  keep 
alive  in  me  a  spirit  of  love  and  meekness  to  all  men,  that  I  may  be  at  once 
genlle  and  active  and  firm.  O  strengthen  me  to  bear  pain,  or  sickness,  or 
danger,  or  whatever  Thou  shalt  be  pleased  to  lay  upon  me,  as  Christ's  sol- 
dier and  servant ;  and  let  my  faith  overcome  the  world  daily.  Strengthen 
my  faith,  that  I  may  realize  to  my  mind  the  things  eternal — death,  and 
things  after  death,  and  Thyself.  O  save  me  from  my  sins,  from  myself,  and 
from  my  spiritual  enemy,  and  keep  me  eVer  thine  through  Jesus  Christ. 
Lord,  hear  my  prayers  also  for  my  dearest  wife,  my  dear  children,  my  many 
and  kind  friends,  my  household, — for  all  those  committed  to  my  care,  and 
for  us  to  whom  they  are  committed, — I  pray  also  for  our  country,  and  for 
Thy  Holy  Church  in  all  the  world.  Perfect  and  bless  the  work  of  Thy 
Spirit  in  the  hearts  of  all  Thy  people,  and  may  Thy  kingdom  come,  and 
Thy  will  be  done'in  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven.  I  pray  for  this,  and  for  all  that 
Thou  seest  me  to  need,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake. 

Wednesday,  May  25. — Again,  before  I  go  to  rest,  would  I  commit  myself 
to  God's  care,  through  Christ,  beseeching  Him  to  forgive  me  all  my  sins 
of  this  day  past,  and  to  keep  alive  His  grace  in  my  heart,  and  to  cleanse  me 
from  all  indolence,  pride,  harshness  and  selfishness,  and  to  give  me  the  spirit 
of  meekness,  humility,  firmness,  and  love.  O  Lord,  keep  Thyself  present  to 
me  ever,  and  perfect  Thy  strength  in  my  weakness.  Take  me  and  mine 
under  Thy  blessed  care,  this  night  and  evermore,  through  Jesus  Christ. 

Thursday,  May  26 O  Lord,  keep  Thyself  present  to  me 


LIFE  OP  DR.  ARNOLD. 


425 


always,  and  teach  me  to  come  to  Thee  by  the  One  and  Living  Way,  Thy 
Son  Jesus  Christ.  Keep  me  humble  and  gentle.  2.  Self-denying.  3.  Firm 
and  patient.  4.  Active.  5.  Wise  to  know  Thy  will,  and  to  discern  the  truth. 
6.  Loving,  that  I  may  learn  to  resemble  Thee  and  my  Saviour.  O  Lord 
forgive  me  for  all  my  sins,  and  save  me  and  guide  me  and  strengthen  me 
through  Jesus  Christ. 

May  29 O  Lord  save  me  from  idle  words,  and  grant  that 

my  heart  may  be  truly  cleansed  and  filled  with  Thy  Holy  Spirit,  and  that  I 
may  arise  to  serve  Thee,  and  lie  down  to  sleep  in  entire  confidence  in  Thee 
and  submission  to  Thy  will,  ready  for  life  or  for  death.  Let  me  live  for  the 
day,  not  overcharged  with  worldly  cares,  but  feeling  that  my  treasure  is  not 
here,  and  desiring  truly  to  be  joined  to  Thee  in  Thy  heavenly  kingdom,  and 
to  those  who  are  already  gone  to  Thee.  O  Lord,  let  me  wait  on  patiently ; 
but  do  Thou  save  me  from  sin,  and  guide  me  with  Thy  Spirit,  and  keep  me 
with  Thee,  and  in  faithful  obedience  to  Thee,  through  Jesus  Christ  Thy 
Son  our  Lord. 

May  31. — Another  day  and  another  month  succeed.  May  God  keep  my 
mind  and  heart  fixed  on  Him,  and  cleanse  me  from  all  sin.  I  would  wish  to 
keep  a  watch  over  my  tongue,  as  to  vehement  speaking  and  censuring  ot 
others.  I  would  desire  to  be  more  thoughtful  of  others,  more  thoughtful 
"  ultro  "  of  my  own. head,  without  the  suggestions  of  others.  I  would  desire 
to  remember  my  latter  end  to  which  I  am  approaching,  going  down  the  hill 
of  life,  and  having  done  far  more  than  half  my  work.  May  God  keep  me  in 
the  hour  of  death,  through  Jesus  Christ ;  and  preserve  me  from  over  fear, 
as  well  as  from  presumption.  Now,  O  Lord,  whilst  I  am  in  health,  keep  my 
heart  fixed  on  Thee  by  faith,  and  then  I  shall  not  lose  Thee  in  sickness  or 
in  death.  Guide  and  strengthen  and  enkindle  me,  and  bless  those  dearest 
to  me,  and  those  committed  to  my  charge,  and  keep  them  Thine,  and  guide 
and  support  them  in  Thy  holy  ways.  Keep  sin  far  from  them,  O  Lord,  and 
let  it  not  come  upon  them  through  any  neglect  of  mine.  O  Lord,  inspire  me 
with  zeal,  and  guide  me  with  wisdom,  that  Thy  name  may  be  known  to  those 
committed  to  my  care,  and  that  they  may  be  made  and  kept  always  Thine. 
Grant  this,  O  Lord,  through  Jesus  Christ  my  Saviour,  and  may  my -whole 
trust  towards  Thee  be  through  His  merits  and  intercessions. 

Thursday  evening,  June  2. — Again  the  day  is  over  and  I  am  going  to 
rest.  O  Lord  preserve  me  this  night,  and  strengthen  me  to  bear  whatever 
Thou  shalt  see  fit  to  lay  on  me,  whether  pain,  sickness,  danger  or  distress. 

Sunday,  June  5. — I  have  been  just  looking  over  a  newspaper,  one  of  the 
most  painful  and  solemn  studies  in  the  world,  if  it  be  read  thoughtfully.  So 
much  of  sin  and  so  much  of  suffering  in  the  world,  as  are  there  displayed, 
and  no  one  seems  able  to  remedy  either.  And  then  the  thought  of  my  own 
private  life,  so  full  of  comforts,  is  very  startling ;  when  I  contrast  it  with  the 
lot  of  millions,  whose  portion  is  so  full  of  distress  or  of  trouble.  May  I  be 
kept  humble  and  zealous,  and  may  God  give  me  grace  to  labour  in  my  gen- 
eration for  the  good  of  my  brethren,  and  for  His  glory  !  May  He  keep  me 
His  by  night  and  by  day,  and  strengthen  me  to  bear  and  to  do  His  will, 
through  Jesus  Christ. 

Monday  evening,  June  6. — I  have  felt  better  and  stronger  all  this  day, 
and  I  thank  God  for  it.  But  may  He  keep  my  heart  tender.  May  He  keep 
me  gentle  and  patient,  yet  active  and  zealous,  may  He  bless  me  in  Himself 
and  in  His  Son.  May  He  make  me  humble  minded  in  this,  that  I  do  not 
look  for  good  things  as  my  portion  here,  but  rather  should  look  for  troubles 
as  what  I  deserve,  and  as  what  Christ's  people  are  to  bear.  i(  If  ye  be  with- 
out chastisement,  of  which  all  are  partakers,"  &c.  How  much  of  good  have 
I  received  at  God's  hand,  and  shall  I  not  also  receive  evil  ?  Only,  O  Lord, 
strengthen  me  to  bear  it,  whether  it  visit  me  in  body,  in  mind,  or  in  estate. 
Strengthen  me  with  the  grace  which  Thou  didst  vouchsafe  to  Thy  martyrs ; 
and  let  me  not  fall  from  Thee  in  any  trial.  O  Lord,  let  me  cherish  a  sober 
mind,  to  be  ready  to  bear  evenly,  and  not  sullenly.    O  Lord  reveal  to  me  Thy- 

28 


426  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

self  in  Christ  Jesus,  which  knowledge  will  make  all  suffering  and  all  trials 
easy.  O  Lord  !  bless  my  dearest  wife,  and  strengthen  us  in  the  hardest  of 
all  trials,  evil  befalling  each  other.  Bless  our  dear  children,  and  give  me 
grace  to  guide  them  wisely  and  lovingly  through  Jesus  Christ.  O  Lord, 
may  I  join  with  all  Thy  people  in  heaven  and  on  earth  in  offering  up  my 
prayers  to  Thee  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  and  in  saying  "Glory  bo 
to  Thy  most  holy  Name  for  ever  and  ever." 

Meantime  his  general  occupations  during  this  last  year  had  been 
going  on  as  usual,  though  interrupted  for  a  time  by  his  Professo- 
rial Lectures  at  Oxford.  On  returning  from  them  to  Rugby,  in 
February,  he  immediately  engaged  again  upon  the  Roman  History. 
"  I  thirst,"  he  said,  "  for  Zama,"  and  on  the  5th  of  May,  he  had 
begun  the  chapter  immediately  preceding  the  account  of  that  bat- 
tle which  with  two  more,  would  have  completed  the  third  volume. 
His  Lecture  on  Gregory  the  Great  had  also  been  occupying  his 
time  and  thoughts ;  and  he  had  for  this  purpose  been  analyzing 
and  commenting  on  the  earlier  books  of  Paulus  Uiaconus,  De 
Gestis  Longobardorum.  He  was  also  beginning  to  make  final  ar- 
rangements for  the  edition  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles,  which  he  had 
now  for  some  years  past  been  hoping  to  leave  as  a  monument  of 
his  government  of  Rugby  School.  And  it  was  about  six  weeks 
before  his  death  that  he  explored  the  field  of  Naseby  in  company 
with  Mr.  Carlyle,  who  left  his  house  at  Rugby,  expressing  the 
hope  that  it  might  "  long  continue  to  be  what  was  to  him  one  of 
the  rarest  sights  in  the  world — a  temple  of  industrious  peace." 

His  short  illness  presented  no  material  interruption  to  his  pres- 
ent pursuits  or  future  plans.  He  looked  eagerly  forward  to  his 
holidays  at  Fox  How,  often  writing  to  those  of  his  children  who 
had  gone  there  before  the  usual  time  of  their  common  journey,  to 
inquire  after  the  growth  of  his  favourite  trees,  and  the  aspect  of 
his  favourite  views ;  and  he  was  a'so  preparing  for  his  meditated 
excursion  to  Carthagena,  with  a  view  to  his  history  of  the  Punic 
wars.  His  more  laborious  and  extended  designs  for  his  later  years 
were  still  floating  before  him.  "  One  inducement  I  should  have  if 
they  would  send  me  as  Bishop  to  any  of  the  Australian  colonies," 
were  his  last  words  to  one  of- his  most  attached  pupils,  while  the 
attack  of  illness  was  still  upon  him,  "  that  there  should  be  at 
least  one  Bishop  in  those  parts,  who  would  endeavour  to  build  up 
a  Church  according  to  my  idea  of  what  a  true  Church  should  be." 
His  terminal  Lecture  at  Oxford  had  been-duly  notified  for  the  2nd  of 
June,  and  was  not  abandoned  till  he  found  that  it  would  be  physi- 
cally impossible,  in  consequence  of  the  unexpected  interruption  of 
his  indisposition,  to  finish  it  in  time.  "  I  am  obliged,"  he  wrote  to 
Dr.  Hawkins,  on  the  27th  of  May,  "to  give  up  altogether  the 
hope  of  coming  to  Oxford  this  term.  I  grieve  for  this  very  much, 
but  if  I  live  and  am  well,  I  hope  to  give  two  Lectures  next  term 
to  make  up  for  it,  for  nothing  would  grieve  me  more  than  to  be 
thought  to  escape  from  the  duties  of  my  office,  so  far  as  it  is  in  my 
power  to  fulfil  them." 


LIFE   OP    DR.  ARNOLD.  427 

The  last  week  of  the  long  summer  half-year  had  now  arrived 
— his  fourteenth  year  at  Rugby  was  drawing  to  its  close — the 
course  of  sermons,  in  which,  during  the  preceding  month,  he  had 
dwelt  on  the  three  things  necessary  to  be  borne  in  mind  by  his 
scholars  wherever  they  might  be  scattered  in  after  life,  had  now 
been  ended.  On  the  fifth  of  June  the  last  and  farewell  sermon 
was  preached  in  the  Chapel,  before  the  final  dispersion  of  the  boys 
for  the  holidays,  in  which  he  surveyed,  from  his  own  long  expe- 
rience, the  peculiar  difficulties  and  temptations  of  the  place,  and  in 
which  he  concluded  his  parting  advice  with  words  to  which,  in 
the  minds  of  his  hearers,  the  sequel  gave  a  new  import,  even  in 
their  minutest  particulars.  "The  real  point  which  concerns  us  all, 
is  not  whether  our  sin  be  of  one  kind  or  of  another,  more  or  less 
venial,  or  more  or  less  mischievous  in  man's  judgment,  and  to  our 
worldly  interests;  but  whether  we  struggle  against  all  sin  because 
it  is  sin  ;  whether  we  have  or  have  not  placed  ourselves  conscious- 
ly under  the  banner  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  trusting  in  Him, 
cleaving  to  Him,  feeding  on  Him  by  faith  daily,  and  so  resolved, 
and  continually  renewing  our  resolution,  to  be  his  faithful  soldiers 
and  servants  to  our  lives'  end.  To  this,"  he  said,  "  I  would  call 
you  all,  so  long  as  I  am  permitted  to  speak  to  you — to  this  I  do  call 
you  all,  and  especially  all  who  are  likely  to  meet  here  again  after 
a  short  interval,  that  you  may  return  Christ's  servants  with  a  be- 
lieving and  loving  heart ;  and,  if  this  be  so,  1  care  little  as  to  what 
particular  form  temptations  from  without  may  take  ;  there  will  be 
a  security  within — a  security  not  of  man,  but  of  God." 

The  succeeding  week  was,  as  usual,  one  of  much  labour,  and 
confusion,  from  the  accumulation  of  work  at  the  end  of  the  half- 
year.  There  was  the  heavy  pressure  of  the  Fifth  Form  Examin- 
ation, and  the  general  winding  up  of  the  school  business  ; — there 
was  the  public  day  of  the  school-speeches,  on  Friday,  the  tenth, — 
the  presence  of  the  yearly  examiners  from  Oxford  and  Cambridge, 
— the  visits  of  his  former  pupils  on  their  way  from  the  Universities 
at  the  beginning  of  die  long  vacation.  It  might  seem  needless  to 
dwell  on  details  which,  though  of  deep  interest  to  those  who  knew 
him  well,  differed  but  little  from  the  tenor  of  his  usual  life.  Yet 
for  this  very  reason  it  is  worth  while  to  recall  so  much  of  them  as 
shall  continue  the  same  image  down  to  its  sudden  close. 

Whatever  depression  had  been  left  by  the  feverish  attack  of 
the  preceding  fortnight,  had  in  the  two  or  three  last  days  passed 
away,  and  he  had  recovered  not  only  his  usual  health,  but  his 
usual  spirits  and  energy,  playing  with  his  children,  undertaking 
all  the  work  of  the  Examination,  and  at  the  same  time  interrupt- 
ing himself  in-his  vaiious  occupations,  to  go  and  sit  for  an  hour 
to  relieve  the  anxiety  or  enliven  the  sick  bed  of  an  invalid  ;  and 
though  "glad  to  get  off  going  up  to  Oxford  to  do  battle,"  and 
wishing  to  avoid  the  excitement  and  inconvenience  of  a  hurried 
journey,  he  offered,  if  it  were  necessary,  to  give  his  vote  in  convo- 
cation, on  June  ninth,  for  the  repeal  of  the  censure  on  Dr. 
Hampden. 


428  L1FE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

Deeply,  too,  did  he  enter  into  the  unusual  beauty  of  the  sum- 
mer of  that  genial  year.  In  his  daily  walk  to  his  bathing-place  in 
the  Avon,  he  was  constantly  calling  the  attention  of  his  companions 
to  the  peculiar  charm  of  this  season  of  the  year,  when  every  thing 
was  so  rich,  without  being  parched  ;  the  deep  green  of  a  field  of 
clover,  or  of  an  old  elm  on  the  rise  of  a  hill  on  the  outskirts  of 
Rugby,  or  of  a  fine  oak,  which  called  forth  many  old  recollections 
of  its  associates  in  the  adjoining  hedges,  of  which  it  was  one  of 
the  few  survivors.  And  these  walks  were  enlivened  by  those  con- 
versations in  which  his  former  pupils  took  so  much  delight,  in 
which  he  was  led  on  through  the  various  topics  of  which  his  mind 
was  full.  There  were  the  remembrances  of  his  past  tours,  and  "of 
the  morning  between  Pisa  and  Rome,  which  gave  him  the  most 
perfect  outward  enjoyment  which  he  could  conceive  ;"  the  expecta- 
tion of  future  journeys — of  the  delight  of  visiting  the  Sierra  More- 
na,  "  containing  all  the  various  stages  of  vegetation,  and  beautiful 
as  the  garden  of  the  Lord," — and  yet  again  the  constant  feeling 
that  "he  never  could  rest  any  where  in  travelling," — "if  he  staid 
more  than  a  day  at  the  most  beautiful  spot  in  the  world,  it  would 
only  bring  on  a  longing  for  Fox  How."  There  was  also  the  anti- 
cipation of  the  more  distant  future ;  how  he  would  have  pupils 
with  him  in  Westmoreland  during  the  long  vacation,  when  he  had 
retired  from  Rugby,  and  "  what  glorious  walks  he  would  take  them 
upon  Loughrigg." 

His  subjects  of  more  general  interest  were  also  discussed  as 
usual, — such  as  the  comparison  of  the  art  of  medicine  in  barbarous 
and  civilized  ages, — the  philological  importance  of  provincial  vo- 
cabularies,— the  threatening  prospect  of  the  moral  condition  of  the 
United  States, — united  on  the  other  hand  with  their  great  opportu- 
nities for  good  in  "  that  vast  continent."  Of  the  Oxford  opinions 
his  language  was  strong  as  usual,  but  with  none  of  that  occasional 
vehemence  of  expression,  which  had  of  late  years  somewhat  inter- 
fered with  the  freedom  of  his  intercourse  with  some  of  his  Oxford 
pupils,  who  thought  more  favourably  than  himself  of  the  school 
in  question.  He  objected,  as  he  often  did,  to  the  use  of  ridicule  in 
religious  arguments,  as  incompatible  with  the  painful  feeling  which 
should  be  aroused  by  the  sight  of  serious  errrors  or  faults ;  and 
spoke  of  the  irreconcileable  difference  of  principle  by  which  he 
believed  Roman  Catholics  and  Protestants  were  divided,  and  "  be- 
tween which,"  he  said,  "  the  nineteenth"  century  will  have  to  make 
her  choice," — dwelling  at  the.  same  time  on  the  inconsistency  of 
any  attempt  to  hold  the  Apostolical  Succession  short  of  Romanism ; 
though  with  expressions  of  great  affection  of  some  of  his  friends, 
and  with  great  respect  of  Mr.  Maurice,  who  seemed  to  him  to  do 
this.  "  But  such  views,"  he  said,  "  were  my  earliest  dislike, — the 
words  mean  so  entirely  nothing,  their  system  goes  on  two  legs  and 
a  half, — the  Oxford  system  on  three  and  three  quarters, — the  Ro- 
man Catholic  on  four." 

On  Saturday  morning  he  was  busily  employed  in  examining 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  429 

some  of  the  boys  in  Ranke's  History  of  the  Popes,  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  which  he  had  sat  up  late  on  the  previous  night,  and  some 
of  the  answers  which  had  pleased  him  he  recounted  with  great 
interest  at  breakfast.  The  chief  part  of  the  day  he  was  engaged  in 
finishing  the  business  of  the  school,  not  accepting  proffered  assist- 
ance even  in  the  mechanical  details,  but  going  through  the  whole 
work  himself.  He  went  his  usual  round  of  the  school  to  distribute 
the  prizes  to  the  boys  before  their  final  dispersion,  and  to  take  leave 
of  those  who  were  not  returning  after  the  holidays.  "  One  more 
lesson,"  he  had  said,  to  his  own  Form  on  the  previous  evening,  "  I 
shall  have  with  you  on  Sunday  afternoon,  and  then  I  will  say  to 
you  what  I  have  to  say."  That  parting  address  to  which  they 
were  always  accustomed  to  look  forward  with  such  pleasure,  never 
came.  But  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  if  they  remarked  with  pe- 
culiar interest,  that  the  last  subject  which  he  had  set  them  for  an 
exercise  was  "  Domus  Ultima  ;"  that  the  last  translation  for  Latin 
verses  was  from  the  touching  lines  on  the  death  of  Sir  Philip  Syd- 
ney, in  Spenser's  "  Ruins  of  Time ;" — that  the  last  words  with 
which  he  closed  his  last  lecture  on  the  New  Testament  were  in 
commenting  on  the  passage  of  St.  John : — "  It  doth  not  yet  appear 
what  we  shall  be  ;  but  we  know  that  when  He  shall  appear  we 
shall  be  like  Him,  for  we  shall  see  Him  as  He  is." — "  So,  too,"  he 
said,  "  in  the  Corinthians,  '  For  now  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly, 
but  then  face  to  face.' — Yes,"  he  added,  with  marked  fervency, 
"  the  mere  contemplation  of  Christ  shall  transform  us  into  His 
likeness." 

In  the  afternoon  he  took  his  ordinary  walk  and  bathe,  enjoying 
the  rare  beauty  of  the  day,  and  he  stopped  again  and  again  to  look 
up  into  the  unclouded  blue  of  the  summer  sky,  t:  the  blue  depth  of 
aether"  which  had  been  at  all  times  one  of  his  most  favourite  ima- 
ges in  nature,  "  conveying,"  as  he  said,  "  ideas  so  much  more  beau- 
tiful, as  well  as  more  true,  than  the  ancient  conceptions  of  the 
heavens  as  an  iron  firmament."  At  dinner  he  was  in  high  spirits, 
talking  with  his  several  guests  on  subjects  of  social  or  historical 
interest,  and  recurring  with  great  pleasure  to  his  early  geological 
studies,  and  describing,  with  much  interest,  his  recent  visit  to 
Naseby  with  Carlyle,  "  its  position  on  some  of  the  highest  table 
land  in  England,— the  streams  falling  on  the  one  side  into  the  At- 
lantic, on  the  other  into  the  German  Ocean, — far  away,  too,  from 
any  town, — Market  Harborough,  the  nearest,  into  which  the  cava- 
liers were  chased,  late  in  the  long  summer  evening,  on  the  four- 
teenth of  June,  you  know." 

In  the  evening  he  took  a  short  stroll,  as  usual,  on  the  lawn  in 
the  further  garden,  with  the  friend,  and  former  pupil,  from  whom 
the  account  of  these  last  conversations  has  been  chiefly  derived. 
His  conversation  with  him  turned  on  some  points  in  the  school  of 
Oxford  Theology,  in  regard  to  which  he  thought  him  to  be  in 
error  ;  particularly  he  dwelt  seriously,  but  kindly,  on  what  he  con- 
ceived to  be  false  notions  of  the  Eucharist, — insisting  especially, 


430  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

that  our  Lord  forbids  us  to  suppose  that  the  highest  spiritual  bless- 
ings can  be  conferred  only  or  chiefly  through  the  reception  of  mate- 
rial elements,' — urging  with  great  earnestness,  when  it  was  said  that 
there  might  be  various  modes  of  spiritual  agency,  "  My  dear  Lake, 
God  be  praised,  we  are  told  the  great  mode  by  which  we  are  af- 
fected— we  have  His  own  blessed  assurance,  '  The  words  which  I 
speak  unto  you,  they  are  spirit,  and  they  are  life.' " 

At  nine  o'clock  was  a  supper,  which,  on  the  last  evening  of  the 
summer  half-year,  he  gave  to  the  Sixth  Form  boys  of  his  own 
house ;  and  they  were  struck  with  the  cheerfulness  and  liveliness 
of  his  manner,  talking  of  the  end  of  the  half-year,  and  the  pleasure 
of  his  return  to  Epx  How  in  the  next  week,  and  observing,  in  allu- 
sion to  the  departure  of  so  many  of  the  boys,  "  How  strange  the 
Chapel  will  look  to-morrow." 

The  school  business  was  now  completely  over.  The  old 
school-house  servant,  who  had  been  about  the  place  many  years, 
came  to  receive  the  final  accounts,  and  delighted  afterwards  to  tell 
how  his  master  had  kept  him  a  quarter  of  an  hour  talking  to  him 
with  more  than  usual  kindness  and  confidence. 

One  more  act,  the  last  before  he  retired  that  night,  remains  to  be 
recorded, — the  last  entry  in  his  Diary,  which  was  not  known  or 
seen  till  the  next  morning,  when  it  was  discovered  by  those  to 
whom  every  word  bore  a  weight  and  meaning,  which  he  who 
wrote  it  had  but  little  anticipated. 

"  Saturday  Evening,  June  11th. — The  day  after  to-morrow  is  my  birth- 
day, if  I  am  permitted  to  live  to  see  it — my  forty-seventh  birthday  since  my 
birth.  How  large  a  portion  of  my  life  on  earth  is  already  passed.  And 
then — what  is  to  follow  this  life  ?  How  visibly  my  outward  work  seems 
contracting  and  softening  away  into  the  gentler  employments  of  old  age. 
In  one  sense,  how  nearly  can  I  now  say,  '  Vixi.'  And  I  thank  God  that,  as 
far  as  ambition  is  concerned,  it  is,  I  trust,  fully  mortified ;  I  have  no  desire 
other  than  to  step  back  from  my  present  place  in  the  world,  and  not  to  rise 
to  a  higher.  Still  there  are  works  which,  with  God's  permission,  I  would  do 
before  the  night  cometh;  especially  that  great  work,1  if  I  might  be  permitted 
to  take  part  in  it.  But  above  all,  let  me  mind  my  own  personal  work, — to 
keep  myself  pure  and  zealous  and  believing, — labouring  to  do  God's  will,  yet 
not  anxious  that  it  should  be  done  by  me  rather  than  by  others,  if  God  dis- 
approves of  my  doing  it." 

It  was  between  five  and  six  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning  that 
he  awoke  with  a  sharp  pain  across  his  ohest,  which  he  mentioned 
to  his  wife,  on  her  asking  whether  he  felt  well, — adding  that  he 
had  felt  it  slightly  on  the  preceding  day,  before  and  after  bathing. 
He  then  again  composed  himself  to  sleep  ;  but  her  watchful  care, 
always  anxious,  even  to  nervousness,  at  the  least  indication  of  ill- 
ness, was  at  once  awakened ;  and  on  finding  from  him  that  the 
pain  increased,  and  that  it  seemed  to  pass  from  his  chest  to  his  left 
arm,  her  alarm  was  so  much  aroused  from  a  remembrance  of  hav- 

•  To  prevent  any  possibility  of  misconception,  it  may  be  as  well  to  refer  to  p.  149. 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD.  431 

ing  heard  of  this  in  connexion  with  Angina  Pectoris,  and  its  fatal 
consequences,  that  in  spite  of  his  remonstrances,  she  rose  and  called 
up  an  old  servant,  whom  they  usually  consulted  in  cases  of  illness, 
from  her  having  so  long  attended  the  sick  bed  of  his  sister  Susan- 
nah. Reassured  by  her  confidence  that  there  was  no  ground  for 
fear,  but  still  anxious,  Mrs.  Arnold  returned  to  his  room.  She  ob- 
.  served  him,  as  she  was  dressing  herself,  lying  still,  but  with  his  hands 
clasped,  his  lips  moving,  and  his  eyes  raised  upwards,  as  if  engaged 
in  prayer,  when  all  at  once  he  repeated,  firmly  and  earnestly, 
"  And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Thomas,  because  thou  hast  seen  thou 
has  believed ;  blessed  are  they  who  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have  be- 
lieved ;"  and  soon  afterwards  with  a  solemnity  of  manner  and  depth 
of  utterance,  which  spoke  more  than  the  words  themselves,  "  But 
if  ye  be  without  chastisement,  whereof  all  are  partakers,  then  are 
ye  bastards  and  not  sons." 

From  time  to  time  he  seemed  to  be  in  severe  suffering ;  and,  on 
the  entrance  of  the  old  servant  before  mentioned,  said,  "  Ah  !  Eliza- 
beth, if  I  had  been  as  much  accustomed  to  pain  as  dear  Susannah 
was,  I  should  bear  it  better."  To  his  wife,  however,  he  uttered  no 
expressions  of  acute  pain,  dwelling  only  on  the  moments  of  com- 
parative ease,  and  observing  that  he  did  not  know  what  it  was. 
But  the  more  than  usual  earnestness  which  marked  his  tone  and 
manner,  especially  in  repeating  the  verses  from  Scripture,  had  again 
aroused  her  worst  fears  ;  and  she  ordered  messengers  to  be  sent  for 
medical  assistance,  which  he  had  at  first  requested  her  not  to  do, 
from  not  liking  to  disturb  at  that  early  hour  the  usual  medical  at- 
tendant, who  had  been  suffering  from  indisposition.  She  then  took 
up  the  Prayer  Book,  and  was  looking  for  a  Psalm  to  read  to  him, 
when  he  said  quickly,  "  The  fifty-first,"— which  she  accordingly 
read  by  his  bedside,  reminding  him,  at  the  seventh  verse,  that  it 
was  the  favourite  verse  of  one  of  the  old  almswomen,  whom  he 
was  in  the  habit  of  visiting ;  and  at  the  twelfth  verse,  "  O  give  me 
the  comfort  of  Thy  help  again,  and  stablish  me  with  Thy  free 
Spirit :" — he  repeated  it  after  her  very  earnestly.  She  then  read 
the  prayer  in  the  "  Visitation  of  the  Sick,"  beginning,  "  The  Al- 
mighty Lord,  who  is  a  most  strong  tower,"  &c,  kneeling  herself  at 
the  foot  of  the  bed,  and  altering  it  into  a  common  prayer  for  them 
both. 

As  the  clock  struck  a  quarter  to  seven,  Dr.  Bucknill  (the  son  of 
the  usual  medical  attendant)  entered  the  room.  He  was  then  lying 
on  his  back, — his  countenance  much  as  usual,— his  pulse,  though 
regular,  was  very  quick,  and  there  was  cold  perspiration  on  the 
brow  and  cheeks.  But  his  tone  was  cheerful. — "How  is  your 
father  ?"  he  asked,  on  the  physician's  entrance :  "I  am  sorry  to 
disturb  you  so  early — I  knew  that  your  father  was  unwell,  and 
that  you  had  enough  to  do."  He  described  the  pain,  speaking  of 
it  as  having  been  very  severe,  and  then  said,  "  What  is  it  ?"  Whilst 
the  physician  was  pausing  for  a  moment  before  he  replied,  the  pain 
returned,  and  remedies  were  applied  till  it  passed  away  ;  and  Mrs. 


432 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


Arnold,  seeing  by  the  measures  used  that  the  medical  man  was 
himself  alarmed,  left  the  room  for  a  few  moments  to  call  up  her 
second  son,  the  eldest  of  the  family  then  at  Rugby,  and  impart  her 
anxiety  to  him ;  and  during  her  absence  her  husband  again  asked 
what  it  was,  and  was  answered  that  it  was  spasm  of  the  heart. 
He  exclaimed,  in  his  peculiar  manner  of  recognition,  "Ha  !"  and 
then  on  being  asked  if  he  had  ever  in  his  life  fainted. — "  No,  never." 
If  he  had  ever  had  difficulty  of  breathing  ?— "  No,  never."  If  he 
had  ever  had  sharp  pain  in  the  chest?  "No,  never."— If  any  of 
his  family  had  ever  had  disease  of  the  chest  ?  "  Yes,  my  father 
had— he  died  of  it."— What  age  was  he  ?  "  Fifty-three."— Was  it 
suddenly  fatal  ?  "  Yes,  suddenly  fatal."  He  then  asked,  "  If  dis- 
ease of  the  heart  was  a  common  disease  ?"  "  Not  very  common." 
"Where  do  we  find  it  most?"  "In  large  towns,  I  think."  "Why?" 
(Two  or  three  causes  were  mentioned.)  "  Is  it  generally  fatal  ?" 
"  Yes,  I  am  afraid  it  is." 

The  physician  then  quitted  the  house  for  medicine,  leaving 
Mrs.  Arnold,  now  fully  aware  from  him  of  her  husband's  state. 
At  this  moment  she  was  joined  by  her  son,  who  entered  the  room 
with  no  serious  apprehension,  and,  on  his  coming  up  to  the  bed, 
his  father,  with  his  usual  gladness  of  expression  towards  him, 
asked, — "How  is  your  deafness,  my  boy?"  (he  had  been  suffering 
from  it  the  night  before,) — and  then,  playfully  alluding  to  an  old 
accusation  against  him,  "  you  must  not  stay  here  ;  you  know  you 
do  not  like  a  sick  room."  He  then  sat  down  with  his  mother  at 
the  foot  of  the  bed,  and  presently  his  father  said  in  a  low  voice : 
"  My  son,  thank  God  for  me  !"  and,  as  his  son  did  not  at  once 
catch  his  meaning,  he  went  on,  saying, — "  Thank  God,  Tom,  for 
giving  me  this  pain  :  I  have  suffered  so  little  pain  in  my  life,  that 
I  feel  it  is  very  good  for  me  :  now  God  has  given  it  to  me,  and  I 
do  so  thank  Him  for  it."  And  again,  after  a  pause,  he  said, — al- 
luding to  a  wish  which  his  son  had  often  heard  him  express,  that 
if  he  ever  had  to  suffer  pain,  his  faculties  might  be  unaffected  by 
it, — "How  thankful  I  am  that  my  head  is  untouched."  Mean- 
while his  wife,  who  still  had  sounding  in  her  ears  the  tone  in 
which  he  had  repeated  the  passage  from  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews, 
again  turned  to  the  Prayer  Book,  and  began  to  read  the  Exhorta- 
tion, in  which  it  occurs  in  "  the  Visitation  of  the  Sick."  He  lis- 
tened with  deep  attention,  saying  emphatically, — "  Yes,"  at  the  end 
of  many  of  the  sentences.  "  There  should  be  no  greater  comfort 
to  Christian  persons  than  to  be  made  like  unto  Christ." — "Yes." 
"  By  suffering  patiently  troubles,  adversities,  and  sickness." — 
"  Yes."  "  He  entered  not  into  His  glory  before  he  was  crucified." 
— "  Yes."  At  the  words,  "  everlasting  life,"  she  stopped,  and  his 
son  said, — "  I  wish,  dear  Papa,  we  had  you  at  Fox  How."  He 
made  no  answer,  but  the  last  conscious  look,  which  remained  fixed 
in  his  wife's  memory,  was  the  look  of  intense  tenderness  and  love 
with  which  he  smiled  upon  them  both  at  that  moment. 

The  physician  now  returned  with  the  medicines,  and  the  former 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  433 

remedies  were  applied :  there  was  a  slight  return  of  the  spasms) 
after  which  he  said  : — "  If  the  pun  is  again  as  severe  as  it  was 
before  you  came,  I  do  not  know  how  I  can  bear  it."  He  then, 
with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  physician,  who  rather  felt  than  saw 
them  upon  him,  so  as  to  make  it  impossible  not  to  answer  the 
exact  truth,  repeated  one  or  two  of  his  former  questions  about  the 
cause  of  the  disease,  and  ended  with  asking,  "  Is  it  likely  to  re- 
turn?" and,  on  being  told  that  it  was,  "Is  it  generally  suddenly 
fatal  ?" — "  Generally."  On  being  asked  whether  he  had  any  pain, 
he  replied  that  he  had  none,  but  from  the  mustard  plaster  on  his 
chest,  with  a  remark  on  the  severity  of  the  spasms  in  comparison 
with  this  outward  pain ;  and  then,  a  few  moments  afterwards,  in- 
quired what  medicine  was  to  be  given ;  and  on  being  told,  an- 
swed,  "  Ah,  very  well."  The  physician,  who  was  dropping  the 
laudanum  into  a  glass,  turned  round,  and  saw  him  looking  quite 
calm,  but  with  his  eyes  shut.  In  another  minute  he  heard  a  rat- 
tle in  the  throat,  and  a  convulsive  struggle, — flew  to  the  bed,  caught 
his  head  upon  his  shoulder,  and  called  to  one  of  the  servants  to 
fetch  Mrs.  Arnold.  She  had  but  just  left  the  room  before  his  last 
conversation  with  the  physician,  in  order  to  acquaint  her  son 
with  his  father's  danger,  of  which  he  was  still  unconscious, 
when  she  heard  herself  called  from  above.  She  rushed  up  stairs, 
told  her  son  to  bring  the  rest  of  the  children,  and  with  her  own 
hands  applied  the  remedies  that  were  brought,  in  the  hope  of  re- 
viving animation,  though  herself  feeling,  from  the  moment  that 
she  saw  him,  that  he  had  already  passed  away.  He  was  indeed 
no  longer  conscious.  The  sobs  and  cries  of  his  children,  as  they 
entered  and  saw  their  father's  state,  made  no  impression  upon  him 
— the  eyes  were  fixed — the  countenance  was  unmoved  :  there  was 
a  heaving  of  the  chest — deep  gasps  escaped  at  prolonged  intervals, 
— and  just  as  the  usual  medical  attendant  arrived,  and  as  the  old 
school-house  servant,  in  an  agony  of  grief,  rushed  with  the  others 
into  the  room,  in  the  hope  of  seeing  his  master  once  more, — he 
breathed  his  last. 

It  must  have  been  shortly  before  eight  a.  m.  that  he  expired, 
though  it  was  naturally  impossible  for  those  who  were  present  to 
adjust  their  recollections  of  what  passed  with  precise  exactness  of 
time  or  place.  So  short  and  sudden  had  been  the  seizure,  that 
hardly  any  one  out  of  the  household  itself  had  heard  of  his  illness 
before  its  fatal  close.  His  guest,  and  former  pupil,  (who  had  slept 
in  a  remote  part  of  the  house,)  was  coming  down  to  breakfast  as 
usual,  thinking  of  questions  to  which  the  conversation  of  the  pre- 
ceding night  had  given  rise,  and  which,  by  the  great  kindness  of 
his  manner,  he  felt  doubly  encouraged  to  ask  him,  when  he  was 
met  on  the  staircase  by  the  announcement  of  his  death.  The 
masters  knew  nothing  till  the  moment  when,  almost  at  the  same 
time  at  the  different  boarding-houses,  the  fatal  message  was  deliv- 
ered in  all  its  startling  abruptness,  "^that  Dr.  Arnold  was  dead." 
What  that  Sunday  was  in  Rugby  it  is  hard  fully  to  represent :  the 


434 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


incredulity — the  bewilderment— the  agitating  inquiries  for  every 
detail — the  blank,  more  awful  than  sorrow,  that  prevailed  through 
the  vacant  services  of  that  long  and  dreary  day — the  feeling  as  if 
the  very  place  had  passed  away  with  him  who  had  so  emphati- 
cally been  in  every  sense  its  head — the  sympathy  which  hardly 
dared  to  contemplate,  and  which  yet  could  not  but  fix  the  thoughts 
and  looks  of  all  on  the  desolate  house,  where  the  fatherless  family 
were  gathered  round  the  chamber  of  death* 

Five  of  his  children  were  awaiting  their  father's  arrival  at  Fox 
How.  To  them  the  news  was  brought  on  Monday  morning,  by 
the  same  pupil  who  had  been  in  the  house  at  his  death,  and  who 
long  would  remember  the  hour  when  he  reached  the  place,  just  as 
the  early  summer  dawn — the  dawn  of  that  forty-seventh  birthday 
— was  breaking  over  that  beautiful  valley,  every  shrub  and  every 
flower  in  all  its  freshness  and  luxuriance,  speaking  of  him  who 
had  so  tenderly  fostered  their  growth  around  the  destined  home  of 
his  old  age.  On  the  evening  of  that  day,  which  they  had  been 
fondly  preparing  to  celebrate  with  its  usual  pleasures,  they  arrived 
at  Rugby  in  time  to  see  their  father's  face  in  death. 

He  was  buried  on  the  following  Friday,  the  very  day  week, 
since,  from  the  same  house,  two  and  two  in  like  manner,  so  many 
of  those  who  now  joined  in  the  funeral  procession  to  the  Chapel, 
had  followed  him  in  full  health  and  vigour  to  the  public  speeches 
in  the  school.  It  was  attended  by  his  whole  family,  by  those  of 
his  friends  and  former  pupils  who  had  assembled  from  various 
parts  during  the  week. -and  by  many  of  the  neighbouring  clergy 
and  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  town,  both  rich  and  poor.  The  cere- 
mony was  performed  by  Mr.  Moultrie,  Rector  of  Rugby,  from  that 
place  which,  for  fourteen  years,  had  been  occupied  only  by  him 
who  was  gone,  and  to  whom  every  part  of  that  Chapel  owed  its 
peculiar  interest ;  and  his  remains  were  deposited  in  the  Chancel 
immediately  under  the  Communion-table. 

Once  more  his  family  met  in  the  Chapel  on  the  following  Sun- 
day, and  partook  of  the  Holy  Communion  at  his  grave,  and  heard 
read  the  sermon  preached  by  him  in  the  preceding  year,  on  "  Faith 
Triumphant  in  Death."  And  yet  one  more  service  in  connexion 
with  him  took  place  in  the  Chapel,  when,  on  the  first  Sunday  of 
the  nexthalf-year.  the  school,  which  had  dispersed  on  the  eve  of 
his  death,  assembled  again  within  its  walls  under  his  successor, 
and  witnessed  in  the  funeral  services  with  which  that  day  was 
observed,  the  last  public  tribute  of  sorrow  to  their  departed 
master. 

Nowhere  could  the  shock  have  been  so  overwhelming  as  in 
the  immediate  circle  of  his  friends  and  pupils.  But  the  sensation 
occasioned  by  his  death  was  far  wider  than  the  limits  of  his  per- 
sonal acquaintance.  In  London,  and  still  more  in  Oxford,  where 
his  name  had  always  excited  so  much  interest, — where  the  last 
impression  of  him  had  been  one  of  such  life  and  energy,  and  of 
such  promise  for  the  future,—  the  tidings  were  received  by  men 


LIFE  OP   DR.  ARNOLD.  435 

of  the  most  various  parties,  with. the  shock  which  accompanies 
the  announcement  of  a  loss  believed  to  be  at  once  general  and 
irreparable.  Few  men,  it  was  felt,  after  having  been  centres  of 
love  and  interest  to  a  circle  in  itself  so  large,  have  been  known  and 
honoured  in  a  circle  yet  larger,  have  been  removed  from  both  by 
an  end  so  sudden  and  solemn.  Some  notion  of  the  general  sympa- 
thy may  be  formed  by  the  notices  of  his  death  in  most  of  the  peri- 
odicals of  the  years  1842,  43,  44,  amongst  which  may  be  especially 
mentioned  the  organs  of  the  two  most  opposite  parties,  the  ex- 
treme Radical  and  the  extreme  Oxford  school,  with  both  of  which 
in  life  he  had  had  so  little  of  friendly  intercourse.  As  a  testimony 
of  gratitude  to  his  services  in  the  cause  of  education,  a  public  sub- 
scription was  set  on  foot,  under  the  superintendence  of  a  Committee, 
consisting  of  noblemen  and  gentlemen  of  different  political  and 
ecclesiastical  parties,  the  proceeds  of  which  were  applied,  after  the 
erection  of  a  monument  in  Rugby  Chapel,  to  the  foundation  of 
scholarships,  to  be  enjoyed  in  the  first  instance  by  his  sons  in  suc- 
cession, and  afterwards  dedicated  to  the  pomotion  of  general  study 
at  Rugby,  and  of  the  pursuit  of  history  at  Oxford. 

But  however  wide  was  the  sense  of  his  loss,  and  the  tribute  of 
respect  to  his  memory,  it  was  only  in  the  narrower  range  of  those 
who  knew  him,  especially  of  those  who  had  been  brought  up  under 
his  charge,  that  the  solemnity  of  the  event  could  be  fully  appreci- 
ated. Many  were  the  testimonies  borne  by  them  to  the  greatness 
of  their  loss,  which  it  is  impossible  here  to  record.  But  it  may  be 
permitted  to  close  this  narrative  with  a  letter  to  his  widow  from  a 
former  pupil,  whose  name  has  already  occurred  in  these  pages, 
which  it  has  been  thought  allowable  to  publish,  (though  of  course 
only  the  utterance  of  the  first  feelings  of  private  sorrow,)  as  giving 
the  impression  left  upon  one  who  had  been  parted  from  him  for 
three  years  in  a  distant  country,  and  to  whom  his  fellow  scholars 
will,  it  is  felt,  willingly  leave  the  expression  of  thoughts  and  hopes 
in  which  so  many  will  be  able  more  or  less  to  share. 


Hobart  Town,  Van  Diemen's  Land,  Nov.  16,  1842. 
MY  DEAR  MRS.  ARNOLD, 

If  you  knew  the  true  affection  I  had  for  him  whom  we  have 
los>t,  you  would  not  forbid  my  writing  of  my  grief  to  one  most  near 
and  p  to  him  when  here  below.  No  one  inspirited  and  en- 
coura^,  hy  undertaking  here  [as]  he  did  ;  no  letters  were  so  sure 
to  bring  fi^sh  hopes  and  happiness  as  those  which  can  never  come 
again  from  him.  It  was  not  so  much  what  he  said  in  them,  as  the 
sense  which  they  conveyed,  that  he  still  was  as  he  had  ever  been, 
the  same  earnest  faithful  friend.  It  was  this  which  made  one  feel 
that  while  he  was  alive,  it  would  indeed  be  pusillanimous  to  shrink 


436  LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 

from  maintaining  what  was  true  and  right.     This  I  felt  the  last 
time  I  ever  saw  him,  in  the  autumn  of  1839.     He  rose  early  and 
spent  the  last  hour  with  me,  before  we  separated  for  ever  ;  he  to  his 
school  work  and  I  to  my  journey  here.     We  were  in  the  dining- 
room,  and  I  well  remember  the  autumnal  dawn — it  was  calm  and 
overcast,  and  so  impressed  itself  on  my  memory,  because  it  agreed 
with  the  more  than  usual  quietness  ;  the  few  words  of  counsel 
which  still  serve  me  from  time  to  time ;  the  manner  in  which  the 
commonest  kindnesses  were  offered  to  one  soon  to  be  out  of  their 
reach  for  ever ;  the  promise  of  support  through  evil  fortune  or  good, 
in  few  words,  once  repeated,  exceeded  my  largest  deserts ;  and 
then  the  earnest   blessing  and  farewell  from  lips  never  again  to 
open  in  my  hearing.     His  countenance  and  manner  and  dress — his 
hand,  and  every  movement  are  all  before  me  now  more  clearly  than  . 
any  picture — and  you  will  understand  full  well  how  a  quiet  scene 
like  this  has  an  impressiveness  unrivalled  by  the  greatest  excite- 
ments.    The  uncertain  consciousness  that  this  parting  might  be 
the  last  hung  about  it  at  the  time  ;  and  preserved  the  recollection 
of  it,  till  now  that  the  sad  certainty  gives  a  new  importance  to  the 
slightest  particular. 

I  feel  how  unequal  I  am  to  offer  you  any  consolation  that  you 
do  not  already  possess,  in  the  far  more  solemn  and  painful  parting 
to  which  you  have  been  called.     But  how  unhappy  would  it  have 
been,  had  you  foreseen  that  each  day  was  drawing  nearer  and 
nearer  to  that  fatal  event,  as  surely  as  you  now  know  that  every 
passing  hour  is  an  hour  nearer  to  a  happy  reunion.     Fear  not  but 
that  he  will  be  himself  again — some  good  men  fall  asleep  in  Jesus 
so  full  of  infirmities,  that  they  cannot  but  be  greatly  changed  both 
in  body  and  mind  by  the  healing  miracle  of  the  Resurrection.    But 
will  not  those  who  die,  as  Moses  and  Elias  did,  in  the  fulness  of. 
their  labours  and  their  strength,  be  as  quickly  recognized  as  were 
Moses  and  Elias  by  the  faithful  in  God's  holy  mount  ?     As  our 
Saviour's  wounds  were  healed  on  the  morning  of  the  Resurrection, 
so  shall  his  mortal  disease  be  healed,  and  all  that  we  most  loved  in 
him  shall  become  immortal.     The  tone  of  earnestness  shall  be 
there,  deepened  perhaps  into  a  more  perfect  beauty  by  a  closer  inter- 
course with  the  Son  of  Man,  when  his  ears  have  heard  the  "  Verily, 
verily,  I  say  unto  you,"  that  once  used  to  be  heard  upon  the  earth 
— the  cheerfulness  shall  be  there  without  a  cloud  to  dim  it  through- 
out all  eternity, — and  how  will  the  mosf  aspiring  visions  of  reforma- 
tion that  ever  filled  his  mind  on  earth  be  more  than  accwmp^hed 
in  that  day  of  the  restitution  of  all  things  !  how  will  he.  rejoicj"  m 
his  strength  and  immortality,  as  he  busies  himself  to  pn?vfim  the 
whole  counsel  of  God  no  longer  doubted  or  disputed  by  n»n  !  what 
member  of  the  Divine  Body  will  glory  more  than  he  will  in  the 
catholic  and  perfect  union  of  men  with  each  other  and  with  God  ! 
My  dear  Mrs.  Arnold,  you  have  been  heretofore  a  kind  friend  to 
one  wh'o  is  neither  forgetful  nor  ungrateful.     But,  when  thus  gaz- 


LIFE  OF   DR.  ARNOLD.  437 

ing  up  into  heaven  after  him,  I  remember  that  you  are  his,  I  pray 
with  a  double  earnestness  that  you  may  follow  him,  and  that,  when 
your  time  is  come,  you  may  present  to  him  the  greatest  blessing 
that  can  now  be  added  to  his  full  cup  of  joy,  yourself  and  your 
children  perfect  before  the  throne  of  God.  Accept  this  blessing 
from  your  true  and  sincere  friend, 

JOHN  PHILIP  GELL. 


APPENDIX. 


(A.) 
PRAYERS, 

WRITTEN  BY  DR.  ARNOLD  FOR  VARIOUS  OCCASIONS  IN  RUGBY 

SCHOOL. 


I.      PRAYER    READ   EVERY    MORNING    IN    THE  SIXTH    FORM. 
(See  .p  95.) 

O  Lord,  who  by  Thy  holy  Apostle  hast  taught  us  to  do  all  things  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  and  to  Thy  glory,  give  Thy  blessing,  we  pray  Thee, 
to  this  our  daily  work,  that  we  may  do  it  in  faith,  and  heartily,  as  to  the  Lord 
and  not  unto  men.  All  our  powers  of  body  and  mind  are  Thine,  and  we 
would  fain  devote  them  to  Thy  service.  Sanctify  them  and  the  work  in 
which  they  are  engaged  ;  let  us  not  be  slothful,  but  fervent  in  spirit,  and  do 
Thou,  O  Lord,  so  bless  our  efforts  that  they  may  bring  forth  in  us  the  fruits 
of  true  wisdom.  Strengthen  the  faculties  of  our  minds  and  dispose  us  to 
exert  them,  but  let  us  always  remember  to  exert  them  for  Thy  glory,  and 
for  the  furtherance  of  Thy  kingdom,  and  save  us  from  all  pride,  and  vanity, 
and  reliance  upon  our  own  power  or  wisdom.  Teach  us  to  seek  after  truth 
and  enable  us  to  gain  it;  but  grant  that  we  may  ever  speak  the  truth  in 
love: — that,  while  we  know  earthly  things,  we  may  know  Thee,  and  be 
known  by  Thee,  through  and  in  Thy  Son  Jesus  Christ.  Give  us  this  day 
Thy  Holy  Spirit,  that  we  may  be  Thine  in  body  and  spirit,  in  all  our  work 
and  all  our  refreshments,  through  Jesus  Christ  Thy  Son  our  Lord.     Amen. 

II.      PRAYER    USED    ON    SUNDAY    EVENING    IN    THE    SCHOOL-HOUSE. 

O  Lord  our  God,  we  are  once  again  arrived  at  the  evening  of  Thy  holy 
day.     May  Thy  Spirit  render  it  truly  blest  to  us  ! 

We  have  attended  the  public  service  of  Thy  church ;  Thou  knowest,  O 
Lord  and  our  own  consciences  each  know  also,  whether  while  we  worshipped 
Thee  in  form  we  worshipped  Thee  in  spirit  and  in  truth.  Thou  knowest, 
and  our  own  consciences  know  also,  whether  we  are  or  are  likely  to  be  any 
the  better  (or  what  we  have  heard  with  our  outward  ears  this  day. 

Forgive  us,  Lord,  for  this  great  sin  of  despising  the  means  of  grace  which 
Thou  hast  given  us.     Forgive  us  for  all  our  carelessness,  inattention,  and 


APPENDIX  A. 


439 


hardness  of  heart;  forgive  us  for  having  been  far  from  Thee  in  mind;  when 
our  lips  and  outward  expression  seemed  near  to  Thee. 

Lord,  will  it  be  so  for  ever  ?  Shall  we  ever  hear  and  not  heed  ?  And 
when  our  life  is  drawing  near  to  its  end,  as  this  day  is  now,  shall  we  then 
feel  that  we  have  lived  without  Thee  in  the  world,  and  that  we  are  dying 
unforgiven  ?  Gracious  Father,  be  pleased  to  touch  our  hearts  in  time  with 
trouble,  with  sorrow,  with  sickness,  with  disappointment,  with  any  thing  that 
may  hinder  them  from  being  hard  to  the  end,  and  leading  us  to  eternal  ruin. 

Thou  knowest  our  particular  temptations  here.  Help  us  with  Thy  Holy 
Spirit  to  struggle  against  them.  Save  us  from  being  ashamed  of  Thee  and 
of  our  duty.  Save  us  from  the  base  and  degrading  fear  of  one  another. 
Save  us  from  idleness  and  thoughtlessness.  Save  us  from  the  sin  of  false- 
hood and  lying.  Save  us  from  unkindness  and  selfishness,  caring  only  for 
ourselves  and  not  for  Thee,  and  for  our  neighbours. 

Thou  who  knowest  all  our  weaknesses,  save  us  from  ourselves,  and  our 
own  evil  hearts.  Renew  us  with  Thy  Spirit  to  walk  as  becomes  those  whom 
Thou  hast  redeemed,  through  Thy  Son  Jesus  Christ,  our  Saviour.     Amen. 


III.      PRAYER    USED    AFTER   CONFIRMATION    AND   COMMUNION. 

O  Lord,  we  thank  Thee  for  having  preserved  us  safe  from  all  the  perils 
and  dangers  of  this  day :  that  Thou  hast  given  us  health  and  strength,  food 
and  clothing,  and  whilst  there  are  so  many  who  are  poor,  so  many  who  are 
sick,  so  many  who  are  in  sorrow,  that  Thou  hast  given  us  so  richly  such 
manifold  and  great  blessings. 

Yet  more,  O  Lord,  we  thank  Thee  for  Thy  mercies  to  us  in  Thy  Son 
Jesus  Christ.  We  thank  Thee  for  Thy  infinite  love  shown  in  our  redemp- 
tion, that  Thou  hast  opened,  through  Thy  beloved  Son,  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  to  all  believers.  We  thank  Thee  for  the  full  assurance  of  hope 
which  Thou  hast  given  us,  that  if  our  earthly  tabernacle  be  dissolved  we 
have  yet  a  building  of  God,  a  bouse  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens.  Thou  hast  shown  to  us  nothing  but  goodness,  O  Lord,  for  this 
life  and  for  life  eternal ;  and  yet  we  have  sinned,  and  are  sinning  ao-ainst 
Thee  daily.  We  are  forfeiting  all  Thy  blessings,  and  turning  them  into  a 
curse.  Forgive  us,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake,  all  and  each,  for  all  our  many 
sins  in  thought,  word,  and  deed ;  whether  known  to  others,  or  to  our  own 
conscience  alone,  or  forgotten  even  by  our  own  careless  hearts,  but  known 
and  recorded  by  Thee,  against  the  great  day  of  judgment. 

One  thing  more.  O  Lord,  we  pray  for,  without  which  all  these  blessings 
shall  only  condemn  us  the  more  heavily.  O  Lord,  increase  and  keep  alive 
in  us  Thy  faith.  Let  not  the  world,  and  our  own  health,  and  the  many  good 
things  which  Thou  hast  given  us,  prove  a  snare'  unto  us.  Let  us  endure,  as 
seeing  by  faith  Thee  who  art  invisible. 

O  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  didst  take  our  nature  upon  Thee,  and  art  now 
standing  as  the  Son  of  Man  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high,  reveal 
Thyself  to  our  minds  and  hearts,  as  Thou  didst  to  the  bodily  eyes  of  Thy 
martyr  Stephen.  As  Thou  didst  comfort  and  strengthen  him  in  his  suffering, 
so,  O  Lord,  do  thou  warn  and  chasten  us  in  our  enjoyments;  making  us  to 
know  and  feel  that  in  Thee  is  our  only  life,  and  that  if  we  cleave  not  to 
Thee,  and  have  not  Thee  abiding  in  us,  we  are  dead  now,  and  shall  be  dead 
for  ever. 

Quicken  in  us  the  remembrance  of-our  baptism  :  how  we  are  pledged  to 
become  Thy  true  servants  and  soldiers  to  our  lives'  end.  Dispose  us  all  to 
renew  this  pledge  from  the  bottom  of  our  hearts,  both  those  of  us  who  are 
going  to  receive  the  rite  of  confirmation  soon,  and  those  of  us  who  have 
received  it  already,  and  those  of  us  who  may  expect  to  receive  it  hereafter. 
Quicken  in  as  many  of  us  as  have  either  this  day  or  heretofore  been  partakers 
in  the  Communion  of  Thy  body  and  blood,  the  remembrance  of  that  blessed 


440 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


sacrament,  that  we  gave  ourselves  therein  to  be  wholly  Thine,  in  body,  soul, 
and  spirit,  that  we  might  evermore  dwell  in  Thee,  and  Thou  in  us. 

O  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  who  art  the  only  author  of  all  spiritual  life, 
quicken  us  with  Thy  power,  and  preserve  and  quicken  us  in  the  life  which 
is  Thy  gift.  Forgive  us  that  we  have  so  often  grieved  Thee,  and  preserve 
us  from  grieving  Thee  so  long  and  so  often,  that  Thou  wilt  depart  from  us 
for  evermore,  and  leave  us  to  a  state  beyond  repentance,  and  beyond  for- 
giveness. Teach  us  to  remember  that  every  day  which  we  spend  carelessly 
and  unprofitably,  we  are  grieving  Thee,  and  tempting  Thee  to  leave  us. 
Let  not  our  prosperity  harden  our  hearts  to  our  destruction.  Screen  us 
from  the  horrible  sin  of  casting  a  stumbling  block  in  our  brother's  way,  of 
tempting  him  to  evil,  or  discouraging  him  from  good. by  our  example,  or  by 
our  laughter,  or  by  our  unkindness  and  persecution. 

O  Lord  Almighty,  this  day  is  now  drawing  to  its  end.  May  the  means 
of  grace  which  Thou  hast  given  us  in  it  work  good  in  us  for  to-morrow,  and 
the  days  to  come.  May  Thy  blessing  be  with  us  on  this  first  day  of  the 
week,  to  guide  us  and  to  strengthen  us  even  to  its  end. 

Bless  all  our  friends  in  all  places,  and  keep  them  in  Thy  faith  and  fear: 
bless  Thy  universal  Church  militant  here  on  earth,  and  grant  that  all  who 
confess  with  their  mouth  the  Lord  Jesus,  may  believe  on  Him  in  their  hearts, 
to  life  everlasting.  Bless  our  Queen  and  our  country ;  that  we  may  be  a 
Christian  people,  not  in  word  only,  but  in  power.  Bless  this  school,  that  it 
may  be  a  place  of  godly  education,  to  Thy  glory,  and  the  salvation  of  our 
own  souls.  Fill  us  with  Thy  Holy  Spirit,  that  we  may  labour  in  our  several 
duties  towards  one  another  and  towards  Thee,  as  befits  those  whom  Thou 
hast  redeemed  by  the  blood  of  Thy  dear  Son. 

Finally,  we  thank  Thee  for  all  those,  whether  we  have  known  them  on 
earth,  or  whether  they  were  strangers  to  us,  who  have  departed  this  life  in 
Thy  faith  and  fear;  and  who  are  safe  and  at  rest  till  the  day  of  Thy  coming. 
Increase  their  number,  O  Lord,  and  enable  us  through  Thy  grace  to  be  of 
their  company,  that  when  Thou  comest  in  Thy  glorious  majesty,  and  shalt 
call  us  all  to  judgment,  we  may  stand  with  all  Thy  faithful  people  at  Thy 
right  hand,  and  may  hear  Thee  call  us  "  blessed,"  and  bid  us  enter  into  Thy 
kingdom  to  see  God  face  to  face. 

IV.      PRAYER    USED    IN    THE    SICK   ROOMS. 

O  Lord  and  heavenly  Father,  we  come  before  Thee  with  our  humble 
thanks  for  all  Thy  mercies  towards  us,  more  especially  for  the  means  of 
grace  which  Thou  hast  afforded  us  in  this  interruption  to  our  usual  course, 
of  health.  We  thank  Thee  for  thus  reminding  us  that  our  enjoyment  of  the 
blessino-s  of  this  world  will  not  last  for  ever — that  the  things  in  which  we 
commonly  take  delight  will  one  day  cease  to  please  us.  We  thank  Thee 
that  by  calling  us  off  for  a  little  while  from  our  common  employments  and 
amusements,  Thou  givest  us  time  to  think  how  we  are  passing  our  life,  and 
what  those  joys  are  which  if  we  once  learn  to  know  them  will  abide  with  us 
for  ever.  Lord,  deliver  us  from  all  impatience  and  from  all  fear  for  our 
bodies,  and  fill  us  at  the  same  time  with  spiritual  fear ;  let  us  not  be  afraid 
of  pain  or  sickness,  but  let  vis  be  afraid  of  Thee,  and  not  waste  the  opportu- 
nity which  Thou  art  now  affording  us.  Give  us  grace  to  think  under  the 
visitations  of  light  sickness  whether  we  are  fit  to  be  visited  with  dangerous 
sickness ;  let  us  consider  what  we  should  do  if,  while  our  body  were  weak- 
ened our  mind  should  be  clouded  also,  so  that  we  could  not  then  pray  to 
Thee  for  succour.  Now,  therefore,  O  Lord,  teach  us  to  call  on  Thee,  while 
we  can  call  on  Thee,  to  think  on  Thee  while  our  reason  is  yet  is  in  its  vigour. 
Teach  us  to  look  into  our  heart  and  life,  to  consider  how  Thou  wouldest 
iudo-e  us,  to  ask  Thy  forgiveness  through  Thy  Son  Jesus  Christ,  for  all  that 
Thou  seest  amiss  in  us,  and  by  the  help  of  Thy  Holy  Spirit  to  overcome  all 
that  is  evil  in  our  heart,  and  to  learn  and  practise  all  that  is  good.     Restore 


APPENDIX  A. 


441 


us  in  thy  good  time  to  our  usual  health,  and  grant  that  this  interruption  to  it 
may  be  sanctified  to  our  soul's  health,  so  making  it  not  an  evil  to  us,  but  an 
infinite  blessing,  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour. 


V.      THANKSGIVING    ON    A    BOy's    RECOVERING    FROM    SICKNESS. 

O  Lord,  our  heavenly  Father,  we  give  Thee  our  humble  and  hearty 
thanks  for  Thy  goodness  shown  to  Thy  servant  whom  Thou  hast  been 
pleased  to  visit  with  sickness.  We  thank  Thee  for  the  prospect  which  Thou 
hast  given  him  of  recovery  of  his  full  health  and  strength,  as  well  as  for  the 
present  abatement  of  his  disorder.  Grant  that  Thy  mercies  may  be  felt  by 
him  and  by  us ;  that  they  may  not  lead  us  to  tempt  Thy  long-suffering  by 
continued  hardness  of  heart,  but  may  make  us  desirous  of  showing  our  grati- 
tude to  Thee  by  living  according  to  Thy  will.  May  we  remember  how 
nearly  health  and  sickness  come  together,  and  that  the  time  will  surely  come 
to  us  all  when  we  shall  be  raised  up  from  sickness  no  more. 

While  Thou  sparest  us,  give  us  grace  to  turn  to  Thee  in  earnest,  that 
we  may  not  have  to  turn  to  Thee  when  it  is  too  late  with  a  vain  regret  and 
despair.  Grant  this,  O  Lord,  for  Thy  dear  Son's  sake,  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord. 


The  following  prayers  were  contributed  by  Dr.  Arnold,  in  1842 
to  a  "  Book  of  Family  Prayers  for  every  day  in  the  year,"  (pub- 
lished by  Mr.  Whittlemore,  Brighton,)  in  answer  to  a  request  made 
to  him  by  the  Editor ;  and  they  are  here  inserted  by  the  kind  per- 
mission of  the  publisher.  The  subjects  of  them  were  doubtless 
suggested  by  two  wants,  which  he  often  lamented,  in  the  public 
services  of  the  Liturgy,  viz.,  a  more  direct  reference  to  the  blessings 
of  the  natural  seasons,  and  also  an  offering  of  thanksgivings  and 
prayers  for  the  blessings  of  law  and  government,  unconnected  with 
any  such  political  allusions  as  occur  in  the  four  State  Services 
appended  to  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer. 

I.      JOHN,   IV.   35. 

O  Lord  God,  who  givest  us  the  promise  of 'food  for  our  bodies,  and  mak- 
est  the  seed  sown  to  grow  up  and  ripen  and  yield  its  fruits  in  season,  do 
Thou  be  pleased  to  give  us  the  true  bread  of  life,  and  to  bless  and  ripen  in 
us  the  seed  sown  by  Thy  Holy  Spirit  in  our  hearts,  that  it  may  bring  forth 
fruit  unto  life  eternal.  Give  us,  we  beseech  Thee,  the  true  bread  of  life, 
Thy  beloved  Son.  May  we  ever  hunger  after  Him,  and  ever  be  filled.  May  we 
feed  upon  Him  by  faith,  receiving  into  our  hearts  His  most  precious  body 
and  blood,  even  the  virtue  of  His  sacrifice  which  alone  cl'eanseth  from  all 
sin.  May  we  cleave  unto  Him,  and  grow  unto  Him,  that  we  may  be  one 
with  Him  and  He  with  us.  Ripen  in  us  also,  we  pray  Thee,  the  seed  of 
Thy  Holy  Spirit.  Make  us  to  cherish  every  good  resolution  which  He 
suggests  to  us,  and  dread  the  great  sin  of  grieving  Him.  Save  us  from 
hardness  of  heart  which  will  not  listen  to  Him;  from  carelessness  and 
lightness  of  heart  which  forgets  Him  ;  from  worldliness  and  overmuch  busi- 
ness, which  cares  for  and  loves  other  things  more.  Bless  Thy  spiritual 
works  even  as  Thy  natural  works,  and  gather  in  Thy  corn  into  Thy  o-arner 
to  Thy  glory  and  our  salvation,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

29 


442  LIFE   OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


O  Lord,  who  hast  given  us  thy  summer  sun  to  gladden  us  with  his  light 
and  to  ripen  the  fruits  of  the  earth  for  our  support,  and  who  biddest  him  to 
set  when  his  work  is  done,  that  he  may  rise  again  to-morrow  ;  give  Thy 
blessing  to  us  Thy  servants,  that  the  lesson  of  the  works  of  Thy  hand  maybe 
learnt  by  us  Thy  living  works,  and  that  we  may  run  our  course  like  the  sun 
which  is  now  gone  from  us. 

Let  us  rise  early  and  go  late  to  rest,  being  ever  busy  and  zealous  in 
doing  Thy  will.  Let  our  light  shine  before  men,  that  they  may  glorify 
Thee  our  Heavenly  Father.  Let  us  do  good  all  our  days,  and  be  useful  to 
and  comfort  others.  And  let  us  finish  our  course  in  faith,  that  we  too  may 
rise  again  to  a  course  which  shall  never  end,  through  the  only  merits  of  Thy 
beloved  Son,  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 


O  Lord,  we  beseech  Thee,  teach  us  to  mark  the  flight  of  time,  and  learn 
from  the  course  of  the  natural  seasons  to  take  a  lesson  for  the  benefit  of  our 
own  souls. 

The  summer  is  nearly  ended,  and  if  Thou  seest  fit  to  deprive  us  of  our  time 
of  harvest,  or  if  we  have  neglected  to  do  our  part  towards  raising  the  fruits  of 
the  earth  for  our  sustenance,  then  we  can  no  more  make  good  our  neglect, 
and  it  will  be  too  late  to  wish  that  we  had  been  wiser.  O  Lord,  our  lives  are 
fast  running  away,  like  the  natural  year  ;  we  have  received  Thy  good  gifts, 
the  sun  and  the  rain  of  Thy  grace,  that  we  should  bring  forth  spiritual 
fruits.  Now  is  the  time  of  the  harvest ;  now  mayst  Thou  come  to  see 
whether  or  no  the  seed  which  has  been  sown  in  us  is  bringing  forth  fruit  in 
its  season. 

Every  day,  O  Lord,  mayst  Thou  expect  to  find  fruit  in  us ;  our  spiritual 
harvest  should  be  ever  ready  for  the  sickle.  Yet  how  many  days  hast  Thou 
come  seeking  fruit  in  us,  and  finding  none.  How  many  days  have  we  spent 
in  sin,  or  in  that  which  thou  callest  sin,  though  we  deem  it  innocent,  in 
following  our  own  ways,  and  our  own  pleasures,  and  neither  working  nor  en- 
joying to  thy  glory,  because  we  thought  not  of  Thee,  nor  of  Thy  beloved  Son. 

So,  in  one  sense,  O  Lord,  the  summer  is  ended,  and  we  are  not  saved. 
One  summer,  many  summers  have  been  so  ended. — many  times  when  we 
might  have  brought  forth  fruit  and  did  not ; — many  birthdays  have  returned 
to  us,  and  yet  have  not  found  us  nearer  Thee,  although  we  were  nearer  to 
death  and  judgment. 

Yet  not  for  nothing,  O  Lord,  does  any  man  grieve  Thy  Holy  Spirit  and 
turn  away  from  Thy  loving  call.  Refusing  Thy  strength,  we  become 
weaker;  refusing  to  live  by  faith,  heavenly  things  become  darker  to  us; 
despising  Thy  long  suffering,  our  hearts  become  harder;  we  are  not  what 
we  once  were ;  we  are  stained  with  many  fresh  sins,  encumbered  with  many 
infirmities ;  we  have  built  again  the  things  which  Christ  destroyed ;  and 
next  year  we  shall  not  be  what  we  are  now,  but  harder;  and  Thou  hast 
said,  there  is  a  state  in  which  it  is  impossible  to  be  renewed  unto  repent- 
ance. 

O  Lord,  save  us  from  this  dreadful  state,  a  state  of  condemnation  even 
before  the  judgment.  O  Lord,  yet  once  more  we  pray  Thee  to  deliver  us 
for  Thy  Son's  sake,  whose  name  we  bear,  and  by  whose  blood  we  are  re- 
deemed, have  mercy  upon  us.  Cleanse  our  hearts  from  their  manifold  sins. 
Give  strength  to  our  feeble  purposes.  Deliver  us  from  the  malice  of  our 
enemy,  to  whom  we  have  betrayed  ourselves.  Deliver  us  from  sin  which  can- 
not be  repented  of;  from  the  last  hardness  of  heart,  to  be  melted  only  by  Thy 
judgments  when  the  time  of  mercy  is  over.  O  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  didst 
warn  Thy  disciples  when  they  failed  to  watch  with  Thee,  that  they  should 


APPENDIX  A.  443 

watch  and  pray,  lest  they  entered  into  temptation,  grant  us  the  help  of  Thy 
Holy  Spirit,  to  do  those  things  which  Thou  commandest  us.  Help  us  to 
watch,  and  help  us  to  pray.  Keep  alive  in  us  the  resolutions  which  fade  so 
quickly.  Call  to  prayer  the  murmuring  heart  that  tries  to  escape  from  Thy 
service,  and  when  we  kneel  down  and  our  lips  utter  words  of  prayer,  do 
Thou  then  restrain  our  wandering  thoughts,  and  fix  our  whole  soul  and 
spirit  in  one  earnest  sense  of  our  own  perishing  condition  and  of  Thine 
almighty  and  ever-present  love  to  us.  And  now,  O  Lord,  the  words  which 
we  have  spoken,  let  us  not  deceive  ourselves  by  them :  let  not  our  lips  have 
prayed  and  our  hearts  be  silent.  Forgive  the  unworthiness  of  all  our  ser- 
vice, and  cleanse  us  from  the  sin  which  cleaves  to  us  in  body,  soul,  and  spirit 
by  Thy  most  precious  blood,  and  by  the  grace  of  Thy  Holy  Spirit.  And  O 
God  most  holy,  receive  our  prayers  in  the  name  of  Thy  beloved  Son,  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord. 


"  O  pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem,  they  shall  prosper  that  love  thee." 

Psalm  cxzii. 

O  Lord,  who  by  Thy  Holy  Apostle  hast  commanded  us  to  make  prayers 
and  intercessions  for  all  men,  we  implore  thy  blessing,  more  especially  upon 
this  our  country,  upon  its  government,  and  upon  its  people. 

May  Thy  Holy  Spirit  be  with  our  rulers,  with  the  Q,ueen,  and  all  who  are 
in  authority  under  her.  Grant  that  they  may  govern  in  Thy  faith  and  fear, 
striving  to  put  down  all  evil,  and  to  encourage  and  support  all  that  is  good. 
Give  Thy  spirit  of  wisdom  to  those  whose  business  it  is  to  make  laws  for  us. 
Grant  that  they  may  understand  and  feel  how  great  a  work  Thou  hast  given 
them  to  do ;  that  they  may  not  do  it  lightly  or  foolishly,  or  from  any  evil 
passion,  or  in  ignorance,  but  gravely,  soberly,  and  with  a  godly  spirit,  enact- 
ing always  things  just,  and  things  wise,  and  things  merciful,  to  the  putting 
away  of  all  wrong  and  oppression,  and  to  the  advancement  of  the  true  wei1- 
fare  of  Thy  people.  Give  to  us  and  all  this  nation  a  spirit  of  dutiful  obedi- 
ence to  the  laws,  not  only  for  wrath  but  also  for  conscience  sake.  Teach  us 
to  remember  Thy  Apostle's  charge,  to  render  to  all  their  dues,  tribute  to 
whom  tribute  is  due,  custom  to  whom  custom,  not  defrauding  or  suffering  to 
defraud  those  who  in  the  receiving  of  custom  and  tribute  are  Thy  ministers, 
attending  continually  upon  this  very  thing. 

Give  peace  in  our  time,  O  Lord  !  Preserve  both  us  and  our  government 
from  the  evil  spirit  of  ambition  and  pride,  and  teach  us  to  value,  and  to  la- 
bour with  all  sincerity  to  preserve  peace  with  all  nations,  not  indulging  in 
taunts  and  railings  against  other  people,  but  showing  forth  a  spirit  of  meek- 
ness, as  becomes  those  who  call  themselves  Christ's  servants.  Save  us  from 
all  those  national  sins  which  expose  us  most  justly  to  Thy  heavy  judgments. 
From  unbelief  and  profaneness,  from  injustice  and  oppression,  from  hardness 
of  heart  and  neglect  of  the  poor,  from  a  careless  and  worldly  spirit,  working 
and  enjoying  with  no  thought  of  Thee,  from  these  and  all  other  sins,  be 
Thou  pleased  to  preserve  us,  and  give  us  each  one  for  himself  a  holy 
watchfulness,  that  we  may  not  by  our  sins  add  to  the  guilt  and  punishment 
of  our  country,  but  may  strive  to  keep  ourselves  pure  from  the  blood  of  all 
men,  and  to  bring  down  Thy  blessing  upon  ourselves  and  all  who  belong 
to  us. 

These  things  and  all  else  which  may  be  good  for  our  temporal  and  for 
our  spiritual  welfare,  we  humbly  beseech  Thee  to  grant  in  the  name  and  for. 
the  sake  of  Thy  dear  Son,  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 


444  LIFE   0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 


(B.) 

It  has  been  thought  worth  while  to  select  a  few  of  the  subjects 
which  Dr.  Arnold  chose  for  exercises  at  Rugby,  both  as  an  illus- 
tration of  what  has  been  said  on  this  point  in  the  Chapter  on  his 
school  life,  and  also  because,  at  least  to  those  who  knew  him,  they 
would  suggest,  perhaps  as  much  as  any  thing  which  could  be 
given,  his  favourite  images  and  trains  of  thought.  They  were  of 
course  varied  with  translations  from  the  authors  he  most  admired, 
and  he  used  from  time  to  time  to  give  criticisms  on  different  books 
or  poems.  Many  of  the  subjects,  as  will  be  seen,  are  capable  of 
various  applications,  which  he  used  to  indicate  to  the  boys  when 
he  set  the  subjects.  The  subjects  of  the  last  half-year  of  his  life 
have  been  given  entire,  and  those  who  have  read  the  account  of 
that  period  will  trace  the  connection  of  many  of  them  with  some 
of  the  thoughts  then  uppermost  in  his  mind. 

SUBJECTS    FOR    PROSE    EXERCISES. 

1.  The  difference  between  advantages  and  merits. 

2.  On  the  excellences  of  Translation,  and  some  of  its  difficulties. 

3.  I've  heard  of  hearts  unkind,  kind  deeds 

With  coldness  still  returning, 
Alas  !  the  gratitude  of  men 
Hath  oftener  left  me  mourning. 

4.  Conversation  between  Thomas  Aquinas,  James  Watt,  and  Sir  Wal- 
ter Scott. 

5.  How  far  the  dramatic  faculty  is  compatible  with  the  love  of  truth. 

6.  The  principal  events  and  men  of  England,  France,  Germany,  and 
Holland,  a.  d.  1600. 

7.  The  ideal  is  superior  to  the  real. 

8.  The  good  and  evil  which  resulted  from  the  seven  years'  war. 

9.  Cogitamus  secundum  naturam,  loquimur  ex  prseceptis,  agimus  e 
consuetudine.     (Bacon.) 

10.  Magnus  esse  debet  historiam  legentibus  fructus,  superioris  aevi  ca- 
lamitates  cum  hac  nostra  humanitate  et  tranquil] itate  conferentibus. 

11.  Parum  valet  rerum  ipsarum  scientia,  nisi  accedat  ingenii  vigor,  quae 
informem  molcm  in  veram  doctrinam  effingat. 

12.  Henricus  Jenkyns,  jam  extrema  senectute,  qua?  in  tam  longS.  vita 
memoria  dignissima  viderit,  nepotibus  enarrat. 

13.  An  bene  constitutum  sit  debitoris  non  bona  tantum,  sed  etiam  corpus 
creditori  esse  obnoxium. 

14.  Franco  -  Gallorum  exercitus,  devicta  ihferiori  iEgypto,  superiorem  et 
urbem  Thebas  ingreditur. 

15.  De  sa?culo,  quo  Esaias  vaticinia  sua  edidit. 

16.  Diversi  nuntii  a  Novoburiensi  prselio  Londinum  et  Oxoniam  per- 
venientes. 

17.  Oxonige  descriptio,  qualem  redivivus  describeret  Herodotus.  (Greek.) 

18.  Q,uae  in  quascunque  regiones  peregrinantibus  praecipue  notanda. 

19.  Alexander  Babylonem  ingreditur,  neque  ita  multo  post  morbo  cor- 
reptus,  inter  summum  suorum  fletum  et  dolorem  animum  expirat. 

20.  Africa  provincia,  postquam  Romanis  subjecta  esset,  quas  potissimum 
vices  usque  ad  hanc  aetatem  subierit. 

21.  Non  ea  est  vita?  nostra?  ratio  ut  sciamus  omnia,  neque  ut  de  omnibus 


APPENDIX  B.  445 

incerti  dubitemus  ;  sed  ut  neque  scientes  plane,  neque  ignorantes,  probabili 
causS.  moti  credamus. 

22.  Definiantur  voces  quae  sequuntur,  to  rtfiiov,  to  xdlov,  hx^afa,  fides : 
necnon,  voces  Anglicae— "  revolution,"  "philosophy,"  "art,"  "religion," 
"duty,"  "romantic,"  "sublime,"  "pretty." 

23.  Judaeus  quidam  Athenas  devectus  Socrati  de  republican  et  puerorum 
institutione  disputanti  forte  auditorem  se  et  interrogatorem  praebet. 

24.  De  veris  rerum  miraculis. 

25.  De  primaevis  animalibus  et  terrae  hujus  mirandis  vicibus. 

26.  Europam  per  aestatem  anni  1815  circumvectus,  quern  rerum  statura 
apud  singuios  populas  offendisset. 

27.  Descriptio  monasterii,  quae  sit  singularum  domi  partium  distributio, 
qualemque  ibi  vitam  degant  monachi. 

28.  De  celeberrimis  quae  in  omni  memoria  scriptae  sunt  legibus. 

29.  Calendarium  naturale. 

30.  Ea  demum  vera  est  voluptas  quae  non  tarn  spe  delectat,  quam  re- 
cordatione  praeterita— ("  Look  not  on  pleasures  as  they  come,  but  go.") 


SUBJECTS    FOR    VERSE. 

1.  Pendent  opera  interrupta. 

2.  Venus  eadem  quae  Libitina. 

3.  Prytaneum. 

4.  Byzantinum  sive  Romanum  Imperium  inter  novas  Europae  respubli- 
cas  solum  antiquitatis  monumentum  superstes  manet. 

5.  Africa,  bonarum  artium  nutrix,  nunc  barbarie  premitur. 

6.  "Eoona;  aoq>ici<;  ndoidqot,. 

7.  Mediterranei  Asia;  campi. 

8.  Richardi  Cromwellii  in  Senatum  reditus. 

9.  Vulgo  ferunt  beatas  esse  nuptias,  quas  sol  illuminat ;  inferias,  quibus 
irrorant  nubes. 

10.  The  Land's  End. 

11.  Supremi  fructus  anni. 

12.  Siccitate  laborant  agri. 

13.  Festum  omnium  Animarum,  sive  Dies  in  memoriam  Christianorum 
defunctorum  celebratus. 

14.  Nav<;  af  aviod-ilaa. 

15.  Epicurus  scholam  in  hortulo  suo  instituit. 

16.  Polycarpi  Martyrium. 

17.  Magna  est  funerum  religio. 

18.  Oculis  capto  mens  tamen  intus  viget. 

19.  Christianus,  trajecto    flumine,  ob  pericula  vise    feliciter   superata, 
grates  agit;    (Pilgrim's  Progress.) 

20.  (The  Seven  Sleepers.)     De  septem  illis  pueris  qui  cum  per  clxxx. 
annos  dormiissent,  turn  autem  miraculo  expergefacti  sunt. 

21.  Duodecim  vultures  a  Romulo  visae. 

22.  Ulysses  in  ipso  mortis  limine  cum  matris  umbra  colloquitur. 

23.  Demosthenis  suprema  fata. 

24.  Fasti  Christiani. 

25.  Adventus  Domini  qualis  ab  ecclesia  singulis  annis  celebratur. 

26.  Urbis  Romae  vicissitudines. 

27.  Hortus  Anglicus. 

28.  Prospectabat  pulcherrimum  sinum,  antequam  Vesuvius  mons  arde- 
scens  faciem  loci  verteret.     Tac.  Ann.  iv.  67. 

29.  Pastores  duo,  hie  mare  ille  dulcis  aquae  flumina  alternis  versibus 
faudant. 

30.  Ne  plus  ultra. 


446  LIPE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 


PROSE    SUBJECTS,    FROM    FEBRUARY    TO    JUNE,    1842. 

1.  De  fcenore  et  de  legibus  foenebribus. 

2.  Duo  viatores,  ab  ipso  fonte  profecti,  Rhodani  cursum  animi  caush 
Hsque  ad  mare  explorant. 

3.  Q,uis  rerum  fuerit  status  circa  annum  post  Christum  sexcentesi- 
mum. 

4.  "  Nunc  dimittis :"  (Christianus,  ipsis  Apostolis  sequalis,  jam  ad  cen- 
tesimum  annum  provectus,  grates  Deo  agit  ob  fidem  per  universum  fere 
terrarum  orbem  pervulgatam.) 

5.  John,  xvi.  22.  "  If  I  had  not  come  and  spoken  unto  them,  they  had 
not  had  sin ;  but  now  they  have  no  cloak  for  their  sin."     (English  Prose.) 

6.  De  sectis  Judeeorum,  Pharisseis,  Sadducseis,  et  Essenibus  ;  necnon  de 
Publicanis  et  quos  vocant  Judaizantibus  sive  Christianis  Judaismum  affec- 
tantibus. 

7.  Nib)tfQ(t,oii<jt,  rolq  oXlyoiq  arriXfyii  b  (•JQuov^nvloq.     (Gk.) 

8.  Quintus  Varus  cum  legionibus  in  Germania  occidione  occisus. 

9.  Caius  Trebatius  Testa  a  Britannia  Ciceronis  litteris,  (Ep.  ad  Div. 
lib.  vii.)  respondet. 

10.  De  vita  et  moribus  Sultani  Mamudi. 

11.  De  seditione  inter  Athenienses  qua  quadringenti  illi  viri  rempublicam 
invaserunt. 

12.  Macedonum  et  Russorum  regna  inter  se  comparantur. 

13.  Qusritur  quae  sit  philosophia  et  quam  ob  causam  ei  a  pluribus  invi- 
deatur. 

VERSE    SUBJECTS,    FROM    FEBRUARY    TO   JUNE,    1842. 

1.  Abydos  a  Philippo  expugnata. 

2.  Gray's  Hymn  to  Adversity. 

3.  Sophonisba. 

4.  Fodinse  mercenarii  subito  terrse  lapsu  pcene  obruti  post  longum  et 
gravissimum  vitse  discrimen  tandem- ad  lueem  proferuntur. 

5.  Hannibal  Italiam  reliquit. 

6.  Novi  Ulyssis  errores — columnae  Herculis,  Iberia,  Oceanus. 

7.  Scipio  Africanus  in  cella  Jovis  secum  meditatur. 

8.  Translation  from  Cowper's  Task,  Book  IV. 

9.  Kehama  poculum  immortalitatis  impins  arripit. 

10.  Translation  from  Pope's  Third  Moral  Epistle. 

11.  Prometheus  Liberatus. 

12.  Fortuna. 

13.  Halcyones. 

14.  Puteus  in  Monte  Zion  defossus  vivas  aquarum  venas  in  lucem  aperit, 
(m  allusion  to  an  Artesian  well  lately  sunk  in  the  dry  rock  of  Jerusalem.) 

15.  Porcia,  Catonis  Filia.  Bruti  Uxor. 

16.  Domus  ultima. 


(C.) 

« 

EXTRACTS  FROM  TRAVELLING  JOURNALS. 

It  will  have  been  already  gathered  from  Dr.  Arnold's  letters, 
how  great  a  pleasure  he  took  in  travelling.  It  was,  in  fact,  except 
so  far  as  his  domestic  life  can  be  so  considered,  his  chief  recreation, 


APPENDIX  C.  447 

combining,  as  it  did,  opportunities  for  following  out  his  delight  in 
History  with  his  love  of  external  nature,  both  in  its  poetical  and 
scientific  aspect.  In  works  of  art  he  took  but  little  interest,  and 
any  extended  researches  in  physical  science  were  precluded  by 
want  of  time,  whilst  from  natural  history  he  had  an  instinctive, 
but  characteristic  shrinking.  " The  whole  subject,"  he  said,  "of 
the  brute  creation  is  to  me  one  of  such  painful  mystery,  that  I  dare 
not  approach  it."  But  geography  and  geology  in  all  their  forms, 
plants  and  flowers,  not  from  any  botanical  interest,  but  for  their 
own  sakes, — beauty  of  architecture  and  of  scenery, — had  an  at- 
traction for  him,  which  it  is  difficult  adequately  to  express ;  and 
when  to  these  were  added  the  associations  of  great  historical  events, 
it  may  well  be  conceived  how  enthusiastic  was  his  delight  in  his 
short  summer  tours,  and  how  essential  a  part  of  his  life  they  be- 
came, whether  in  present  enjoyment  or  past  recollection. 

It  was  his  practice  when  travelling  to  keep  very  minute  jour- 
nals, which,  (as  his  tours  were,  partly  from  necessity  and  partly 
from  choice,  extremely  rapid,)  he  wrote  always  on  the  spot,  or  im- 
mediately after,  and  often  whilst  actually  in  the  act  of  travelling. 
And,  being  addressed  throughout  to  his  absent  wife  or  children,  as 
the  case  might  be,  they  partake  partly  of  the  character  of  a  private 
diary,  or  of  private  letters,  but  rather  of  conversation,  such  as  he 
would  have  held  with  those  whom  he  was  addressing,  had  they 
been  actually  with  him. 

It  is  obvious  that  no  selections  from  journals  of  this  description 
can  give  any  adequate  notion  of  the  whole  of  which  they  are  frag- 
ments,— of  the  domestic  playfulnesses, — the  humorous  details,  in 
verse  or  prose,  of  travelling  adventures, — the  very  jolts  of  the  car- 
riage and  difficulties  of  the  road, — the  rapid  sketches  of  the  mere 
geographical  outline  of  the  country, — the  succession  of  historical 
associations, — the  love,  brought  out  more  strongly  by  absence,  for 
his  own  church  and  country, — the  strain  of  devout  thought  and 
prayer  pervading  the  whole. — which,  when  taken  altogether,  give 
a  more  living  image  of  the  man  himself,  than  any  thing  else  which 
he  has  left.  But  to  publish  the  whole,  of  any  one  of  the  many 
volumes  through  which  these  journals  extend,  was  for  many  rea- 
sons impossible,  and  it  has  therefore  been  thought  desirable  to  se- 
lect, in  the  following  extracts,  such  passages  as  contained  matters 
of  the  most  general  interest,  with  so  much  of  the  ordinary  context 
as  might  serve  to  obviate  the  abruptness  of  their  introduction,  and 
in  the  hope  that  due  allowance  will  be  made  for  the  difference  in 
their  character,  as  they  are -read,  thus  torn  from  their  natural  place, 
instead  of  appearing  in  the  general  course  of  his  thoughts  and 
observations,  as  they  were  suggested  by  the  various  scenes  and 
objects  through  which  he  was  passing. 


448  •     LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 


I.      TOUR    IN    THE    NORTH    OF   ITALY,    1825. 

Chiavasso,  July  3.  1825. 

1.  I  can  now  understand  what  Signor  A said  of  the  nakedness  of 

the  country  between  Hounslow  and  Laleham.  as  all  the  plains  here  are 
covered  with  fruit  trees,  and  the  villages,  however  filthy  within,  are  gen- 
erally picturesque  either  from  situation,  or  from  the  character  of  their 
buildings,  and  their  lively  white.  The  architecture  of  the  churches,  how- 
ever, is  quite  bad,  and  certainly  their  villages  bear  no  more  comparison 
with  those  of  Northamptonshire,  than  St.  Giles's  does  with  Waterloo  Place. 
There  are  more  ruins  here  than  I  expected,  ruined  towers,  I  mean,  of  mo- 
dern date,  which  are  frequent  in  the  towns  and  villages.  The  countenances 
of  the  people  are  fine,  but  we  see  no  gentlemen  any  where,  or  else  the 
distinction  of  ranks  is  lost  altogether,  except  with  the  court  and  the  high 
nobility.  In  the  valley  of  Aosta,  through  which  we  were  travelling  all  yes- 
terday, the  whole  land,  I  hear,  is  possessed  by  the  peasants,  and  there  are 
no  great  proprietors  at  all.  I  am  quite  satisfied  that  there  is  a  good  in  this, 
as  well  as  an  evil,  and  that  our  state  of  society  is  not  so  immensely  superior 
as  we  flatter  ourselves.  I  know  that  our  higher  classes  are  immensely  su- 
perior to  any  one  here  ;  but  I  doubt  whether  our  system  produces  a  greater 
amount  of  happiness,  or  saves  more  misery  than  theirs  ;  and  I  cannot  help 
thinking,  that  if  their  dreadful  superstition  were  exchanged  for  the  Gospel, 
their  division  of  society  Avould  more  tend  to  the  general  good,  than  ours. 
Their  superstition  is  indeed  most  shocking,  and  yet  with  some  points  in 
which  we  should  do  well  to  imitate  them.  I  like  the  simple  crosses  and  ora- 
tories by  the  road  side,  and  the  texts  of  Scripture  which  one  often  sees 
quoted  upon  them  ;  but  they  are  profaned  by  such  a  predominance  of  idola- 
try to  the  Virgin,  and  of  falsehood  and  folly  about  the  Saints,  that  no  man 
can  tell  what  portion  of  the  water  of  life  is  still  retained  for  those  who  drink 
it  so  corrupted.  I  want  more  than  ever  to  see  and  talk  with  some  of  their 
priests,  who  are  both  honest  and  sensible,  if,  indeed,  any  man  can  be  so, 
and  yet  belong  to  a  system  so  abominable. 

July  25,  ie25. 

2.  On  the  cliff  above  the  Lake  of  Como. — We  are  on  a  mule  track  that 
goes  from  Como  along  the  eastern  shore  of  the  lake,  and  as  the  mountains 
go  sheer  down  into  the  water,  the  mule  track  is  obliged  to  be  cut  out  of 
their  sides,  like  a  terrace,  half  way  between  their  summits  and  their  feet. 
They  are  covered  with  wood,  all  chestnut,  from  top  to  bottom,  except  where 
patches  have  been  found  level  enough  for  houses  to  stand  on.  and  vines  to 
grow;  but  just  where  we  are  it  is  quite  lonely;  I  look  up  to  the  blue  sky, 
and  down  to  the  blue  lake,  the  one  just  above  me,  and  the  other  just  below 
me,  and  see  both  through  the  thick  branches  of  the  chestnuts.  Seventeen 
or  eighteen  vessels,  with  their  white  sails,  are  enlivening  the  lake,  and  about 
half  a  mile  on  my  right,  the  rock  is  too  steep  for  any  thing  to  grow  on  it, 
and  goes  down  a  bare  cliff.  A  little  beyond,  I  see  some  terraces  and  vines, 
and  bright  white  houses,  and  further  still,  there  is  a  little  low  point,  running 
out  into  the  lake,  which  just  affords  room  for  a  village,  close  on  the  water's 
edge,  and  a  white  church  tower  rising  in  the  midst  of  it.  The  opposite 
shore  is  just  the  same,  villages  and  mountains,  and  trees  and  vines,  all  one 
perfect  loveliness.  I  have  found  plenty  of  the  red  cyclamen,  whose  perfume 
is  exquisite. 

On  the  edge  of  the  Lake  of  Como. — We  have  made  our  way  down  to 
the  water's  edge  to  bathe,  and  are  now  sitting  on  a  stone  to  cool.  No  words 
can  describe  the  beauty  of  all  the  scenery ;  we  stopped  at  a  walk  at  a  spot 
where  the  stream  descended  in  a  deep  green  dell  from  the  mountains,  with 
a  succession  of  falls ;  the  dell  so  deep,  that  the  sun  could  not  reach  the 
water,  which  lay  every  now  and  then  resting  in  deep  rocky  pools,  so  beau- 


APPENDIX  C.  449 

tifully  clear,  that  nothing  but  strong  prudence  prevented  us  from  bathing  in 
them  ;  the  hanks  of  the  dell,  all  turf,  and  magnificent  chestnuts,  varied  with 
rocks,  and  the  broad  lake  bright  in  the  sunshine  stretched  out  before  us. 


II.   TOUR  TO  ROME  THROUGH  FRANCE  AND  ITALY. 

Paris,  March,  1827. 

1.  In  church  to-day,  there  was  a  prayer  read  for  the  king  and  royal 
family  of  France,  but  they  were  prayed  for  simply  in  their  personal  capa- 
city, and  not  as  the  rulers  of  a  great  nation,  nor  was  there  any  prayer  for 
the  French  people.  St.  Paul's  exhortation  is  to  pray,  not  for  -kings,  and 
their  families,  but  for  kings  and  all  who  are  in  authority,  "  that  we  may 
lead  a  peaceable  life  in  all  godliness  and  honesty."  So  for  ever  is  this  most 
pure  command  corrupted  by  servility  and  courtliness. 

Joigny,  April  6,  1827« 

2.  Sens  has  a  fine  cathedral  with  two  very  beautiful  painted  rose  win- 
dows in  the  transepts,  and  a  monument  of  the  Dauphin,  father  to  the  present 
king,  which  is  much  spoken  of.  Here  the  cheating  of  the  blacksmiths  went 
on  in  full  perfection,  and  is  really  a  very  great  drawback  to  the  pleasure  of 
travelling  in  France.  The  moment  we  stop  any  where,  out  comes  a  fellow 
with  his  leathern  apron,  and  goes  poking  and  prying  about  the  carriage  in 
hopes  of  finding  some  job  to  do  ;  and  they  do  all  their  work  so  ill,  that  they 
generally  never  fail  to  find  something  left  for  them  by  their  predecessor's 
clumsiness.  Again  I  have  been  struck  with  the  total  absence  of  all  gentle- 
men, and  of  all  persons  of  the  education  and  feelings  of  gentlemen.  I  am 
afraid  that  the  bulk  of  the  people  are  sadly  ignorant  and  unprincipled,  and 
then  liberty  and  equality  are  but  evils.  A  little  less  aristocracy  in  our 
country,  and  a  little  more  here,  would  seem  a  desirable  improvement;  there 
seem  great  elements  of  good  amongst  the  people  here, — great  courtesy  and 
kindness,  with  all  their  cheating  and  unreasonableness.  May  He,  who  only 
can,  turn  the  hearts  of  this  people,  and  of  all  other  people,  to  the  knowledge 
and  love  of  Himself  in  His  Son,  in  whom  there  is  neither  Englishman  or 
Frenchman,  any  more  than  Jew  or  Greek,  but  Christ  is  all  and  in  all !  And 
may  He  keep  alive  in  me  the  spirit  of  charity,  to  judge  favourably  and  feel 
kindly  towards  those  amongst  whom  I  am  travelling ;  inasmuch  as  Christ 
died  for  them  as  well  as  for  us,  and  they  too  call  themselves  after  His  name. 

Approach  to  Rome,  April   1827. 

3.  When  we  turned  the  summit  and  opened  on  the  view  of  the  other  side, 
it  might  he  called  the  first  approach  to  Rome.  '  At  the  distance  of  more  than 
forty  miles,  it  was  of  course  impossible  to  see  the  town,  and  besides  the  dis- 
tance was  hazy ;  but  we  were  looking  on  the  scene  of  the  Roman  History ; 
we  were  standing  on  the  outward  edge  of  the  frame  of  the  great  picture,  and, 
though  the  features  of  it  were  not  to  be  traced  distinctly,  yet  we  had  the 
consciousness  that  there  they  were  before  us.  Here,  too,  we  first  saw  the 
Mediterranean  ;  the  Alban  hills,  I  think,  in  the  remote  distance,  and  just  be- 
neath us  on  the  left,  Soracte,  an  outlier  of  the  Apennines,  which  has  got  to 
the  right  bank  of  the  Tiber,  and  stands  out  by  itself  most  magnificently. 
Close  under  us  in  front,  was  the  Ciminian  Lake,  the  crater  of  an  extinct 
volcano,  surrounded,  as  they  all  are,- with  their  basin  of  wooded  hills,  and 
lying  like  a  beautiful  mirror  stretched  out  before  us.  Then  there  was  the 
grand  beauty  of  Italian  scenery,  the  depth  of  the  valleys,  and  the  endless 
variety  of  the  mountain  outline,  and  the  towns  perched  up  on  the  mountain 
summits,  and  this  now  seen  under  a  mottled  sky  which  threw  an  ever  vary- 
ing shadow  and  light  over  the  valley  beneath,  and  all  the  freshness  of  the 
young  spring.     We  descended  along  one  of  the  rims  of  this  lake  to  Ron- 


450  LIFE   0F    DR-  ARNOLD 

eiglione,  and  from  thence,  still  descending  on  the  whole,  to  Monterossi. 
Here  the  famous  Campagna  begins,  and  it  certainly  is  one  of  the  most 
striking  tracts  of  country  I  ever  beheld.  It  is  by  no  means  a  perfect  flat, 
except  between  Rome  and  the  sea ;  but  rather  like  the  Bagshot  Heath 
country — ridges  of  hills  with  intermediate  valleys,  and  the  road  often  run- 
ning between  high  steep  banks,  and  sometimes  crossing  sluggish  streams 
sunk  in  a  deep  bed.  AH  these  banks  were  overgrown  with  the  broom,  now 
in  full  flower ;  and  the  same  plant  was  luxuriant  every  where.  There 
seemed  no  apparent  reason  why  the  country  should  be  so  dejsolate ;  the 
grass  was  growing  richly  every  where,  there  was  no  marsh  any  where  visi- 
ble, but  all  looked  as  fresh  and  healthy  as  any  of  our  chalk  downs  in  Eng- 
land. But  it  is  a  wide  wilderness  ;  no  villages,  scarcely  any  houses,  and 
here  and  there  a  lonely  ruin  of  a  single  square  tower,  which  I  suppose  used 
to  serve  as  strongholds  for  men  and  cattle  in  the  plundering  warl'are  of  the 
middle  ages.  It  was  after  crowning  the  top  of  one  of  these  lines  of  hills,  a 
little  on  the  Roman  side  of  Baccano,  at  five  minutes  after  six,  according  to 
my  watch,  that  we  had  the  first  view  of  Rome  itself.  I  expected  to  see  St 
Peter's  rising  above  the  line  of  the  horizon  as  York  Minster  does,  but  in- 
stead of  that,  it  was  within  the  horizon,  and  so  was  much  less  conspicuous, 
and,  only  a  part  of  the  dome  being  visible  from  the  nature  of  the  ground,  it 
looked  mean  and  stumpy.  Nothing  else  marked  the  site  of  the  city,  but  the 
trees  of  the  gardens  about  it,  sunk  by  the  distance  into  one  dark  mass,  and 
the  number  of  white  villas,  specking  the  opposite  bank  of  the  Tiber  for  some 
little  distance  above  the  town,  and  then  suddenly  ceasing.  But  the  whole 
scene  that. burst  upon  our  view,  when  taken  in  all  its  parts,  was  most  inte- 
resting. Full  in  front  rose  the  Alban  hills,  the  white  villas  on  their  sides 
distinctly  visible  even  at  that  distance,  which  was  more  than  thirty  miles. 
On  the  left  were  the  Apennines,  and  Tivoli  was  distinctly  to  be  seen  on  the 
summit  of  its  mountain,  on  one  of  the  lowest  and  nearest  points  of  the  chain. 
On  the  right  and  all  before  us  lay  the  Campagna,  whose  perfectly  level  out- 
line was  succeeded  by  that  of  the  sea,  which  was  scarcely  more  so.  It  be- 
gan now  to  get  dark,  and,  as  there  is  hardly  any  twilight,  it  was  dark  soon 
after  we  left  La  Storta,  the  last  post  before  you  enter  Rome.  The  air  blew 
fresh  and  cool,  and  we  had  a  pleasant  drive  over  the  remaining  part  of  the 
Campagna  till  we  descended  into  the  valley  of  the  Tiber,  and  crossed  it  by 
the  Milvian  bridge.  About  two  miles  further  on  we  reached  the  walls  of 
Rome,  and  entered  by  the  Porta  del  Popolo. 

Rome,  April,  1827. 

4 After  dinner  Bunsen  called  for  us  in  his  carriage  and 

took  us  to  his  house  first  on  the  Capitol,  the  different  windows  of  which  com- 
mand the  different  views  of  ancient  and  modern  Rome.  Never  shall  I  for- 
get the  view  of  the  former ;  we  looked  down  on  the  Forum,  and  just  opposite 
were  the  Palatine  and  the  Aventine,  with  the  ruins  of  the  palace  of  the  Cae- 
sars on  the  one,  and  houses  intermixed  with  gardens  on  the  other.  The  mass  of 
the  Colosseum  rose  beyond  the  Forum,  and,Jjeyond  all,  the  wide  plain  of 
the  Campagna  to  the  sea.  On  the  left  rose  the  Alban  hills,  bright  in  the 
setting  sun,  which  played  full  upon  Frascati  and  Albano,  and  the  trees  which 
edge  the  lake ;  and  further  away  in  the  distance,  it  lit  up  the  old  town  of 
Lavicum.  Then  we  descended  into  the  Forum,  the  light  last  fading  away 
and  throwing  a  kindred  soberness  over  the  scene  of  ruin.  The  soil  has  risen 
from  rubbish  at  least  fifteen  feet,  so  that  no  wonder  that  the  hills  look  lower 
than  they  used  to  do,  having  been  never  very  considerable  at  the  first.  There 
it  was,— one  scene  of  desolation,  from  the  massy  foundation-stones  of  the  Cap- 
itoline  Temple,  which  were  laid  by  Tarquinius  the  Proud,  to  a  single  pillar 
erected  in  honour  of  Phocas,  the  Eastern  Emperor,  in  the  fifth  century. 
What  the  fragments  of  pillars  belonged  to,  perhaps  we  never  can  know ; 
but  that  I  think  matters  little.     I  care  not  whether  it  was  a  temple  of  Jupiter 


APPENDIX  C.  451 

Stator,  or  the  Basilica  Julia,  but  one  knows  that  one  is  on  the  ground  of  the 
Forum,  under  the  Capitol,  the  place  where  the  tribes  assembled,  and  the 
orators  spoke ;  the  scene,  in  short,  of  all  the  internal  struggles  of  the  Roman 
people.  We  passed  on  to  the  Arch  of  Titus.  Amongst  the  reliefs,  there  is 
the  figure  of  a  man  bearing  the  golden  candlestick  from  the  temple  of  Je- 
rusalem as  one  of  the  spoils  of  the  triumph.  Yet  He  who  abandoned  His 
visible  and  local  Temple  to  the  hands  of  the  heathen  for"  the  sins  of  his 
nominal  Avorshippers,  has  taken  to  Him  His  great  power  and  has  gotten 
Him  glory  by  destroying  the  idols  of  Rome  as  He  had  done  the  idols  of 
Babylon ;  and  the  golden  candlestick  burns  and  shall  burn  with  an  everlast- 
ing light,  while  the  enemies  of  His  holy  name,  Babylon,  Rome,  or  the  car- 
case of  sin  in  every  land,  which  the  eagles  of  His  wrath  will  surely  find  out, 
perish  for  ever  from  before  Him.  We  returned  to  our  inn  to  dress,  and  then 
went  again  to  Bunsen's  evening  party.  We  came  home  about  eleven  ;  I 
wrote  some  Journal,  and  went  to  bed  soon  after  twelve.  Such  was  my  first 
day  in  Rome  ;  and  if  I  were  to  leave  it  to-morrow,  I  should  think  that  one 
day  was  well  worth  the  journey.  But  you  cannot  tell  how  poor  all  the  ob- 
jects of  the  North  of  Italy  seem  in  comparison  with  what  I  find  here  ;  I  do 
not  mean  as  to  scenery  or  actual  beauty,  but  in  interest.  When  I  leave 
Rome  I  could  willingly  sleep  all  the  way  to  Laleham  ;  that  so  I  might  bring 
home  my  recollection  of  this  place  "  unmixed  with  baser  matter." 

May  2,  1827. 

5 After  dinner  we  started  again  in  our  carriage  to  the 

Ponte  Molle,  about  two  miles  out  of  Rome.     All  the  way  the  road  runs  under 
a  steep  and  clifi'y  bank,  which  is  the  continuation  of  the  Collis  Hortulorum 
in  Rome  itself,  and  which  turns  off  at  the  Ponte  Molle,  and  forms  the  boundary 
of  the  Tiber  for  some  way  to  the  northward,  the  cliffs,  however,  being  suc- 
ceeded by  grass  slopes.     On  the  right  bank,  after  crossing  the  Ponte  Molle, 
the  road  which  we  followed  ran  south-west  towards  St.  Peter's  and  the  Va- 
tican, between  the  Tiber  and  the  Monte  Mario.     The  Monte  Mario  is  the 
highest  point  of  the  same  line  of  hills,  of  which  the  Vatican  and  Janiculum 
form  parts  ;  it  is  a  line  intersected  with  many  valleys  of  denudation,  making 
several  curves,  and  as  it  were  little  bays  and  creeks  in  it,  like  the  hills  on 
the  right  bank  of  the  Thames  behind  Chertsey,  which  coming  forward  at 
St.  Anne's,  fall  back  in  a  very  regular  line  behind  Stroud  and  Thorpe  Green, 
and  then  come  forward   again  with  a  higher  and  steeper  side  close  to  the 
Thames  at  Cooper's  Hill.  The  Monte  Mario  is  like  Cooper's  Hill,  the  highest, 
boldest,  and  most  prominent  part  of  -the  line  ;  it  is  about  the  height  and  steep- 
ness too  of  Coopej's  Hill,  and  has  the  Tiber  just  at  the  foot  of  it  like  the 
Thames  at  Anchorwick.     To  keep  up  the  resemblance  there  is  a  sort,  of  a 
terrace  at  the  top  of  the  Monte  Mario  planted  with  cypresses,  and  a  villa, 
though,  dilapidated,  crowns  the  summit,  as  also  at.  our  old  friend  above 
Egham.     Here  we  stood,  on  a  most  delicious  evening,  the  ilex  and  the  gum- 
cistus  in  great  profusion  about  us,  the  slope  below  full  of  olives  and  vines, 
the  cypress  over  our  heads,  and  before  our  eyes  all  that  one  has  ever  read 
of  in  Roman  History — the  course  of  the  Tiber  between  the  low  hills  that 
bound  it,  coming  down  from  Fidense,  and  receiving  the  Allia  and  the  Anio ; 
beyond,  the  Apennines,  the  distant  and  higher  summits  still  quite  white  with 
snow ;  in  front  the  Alban  Hills ;  on  the  right,  the  Campagna  to  the  sea,  and  just 
beneath  us  the  whole  length  of  Rome,  ancient  and  modern — St.  Peter's 
and  the  Colosseum  rising  as  the  representatives  of  each — the  Pantheon,  the 
Aventine,  the  Q,uirinal,  all  the  well  known  objects  distinctly  laid  before  us. 
One  may  safely  say  that  the  world  cannot  contain  many  views  of  such 
mingled  beauty  and  interest  as  this. 

6 From  the  Aventine  we  again  visited  the  Colosseum,  which 

I  admired  most,  exceedingly,  but  I  cannot  describe  its  effect.  Then  to  the 
Church  of  St.  John  at  the  Lateran  gate,  before  which  stands  the  highest  of 
the  Egyptian   obelisks,  brought  by  Constantine  to  Rome.    Near  to  this 


452 


LIFE  OF  DR.  ARNOLD. 


church  also  is  the  Scala  Santa,  or  pretended  staircase  of  Pilate's  house  at 
Jerusalem.  It  is  cased  with  wood,  and  people  may  only  ascend  to  it  on  their 
knees,  as  I  saw  several  persons  doing.  Then  we  went  to  St.  Maria  Maggi- 
ore,  to  St.  Maria  degli  Angeli  at  the  baths  of  Diocletian,  and  from  thence  I 

was  deposited  again  at .     I  care  very  little  for  the  sight  of  their  churches, 

and  nothing  at  all  for  the  recollection  of  them.  St.  John  at  the  Lateran  is, 
I  think,  the  finest;  and  the  form  of  the  Greek  cross  at  St.  Maria  degli  Angeli 
is  much  better  for  these  buildings  than  that  of  the  Latin.  But  precious 
marbles,  and  precious  stones,  and  gilding,  and  rich  colouring,  are  to  me  like 
the  kaleidoscope,  and  no  more ;  and  these  churches  are  almost  as  inferior  to 
ours,  in  my  judgment,  as  their  worship  is  to  ours.  I  saw  these  two  lines 
painted  on  the  wall  in  the  street  to-day,  near  an  image  of  the  Virgin : 

"  Chi  vuole  in  morte  aver  Gesu  per  Padre, 
Onori  in  vita  la  sua  Santa  Madre." 

I  declare  I  do  not  know  what  name  of  abhorrence  can  be  too  strong  for  a 
religion  which,  holding  the  very  bread  of  life  in  its  hands,  thus  feeds  the 
people  with  poison.  I  say  "the  bread  of  life,"  for  in  some  things  the  inde- 
structible virtue  of  Christ's  Gospel  breaks  through  all  their  pollutions  of  it; 
and  I  have  seen  frequent  placards  also — but  printed  papers,  not  printed  on 
the  walls,  and  therefore,  perhaps,  the  work  of  some  good  individual.  "  Tddio 
ci  vede.  Eternita."  This  is  a  sort  of  seed  scattered  by  the  way  side,  which 
certainly  would  not  have  been  found  in  heathen  Rome. 

7 I  fear  that  our  countrymen,  and  especially  our  unmarried 

countrymen,  who  live  long  abroad,  are  not  in  the  best  possible  moral  state, 
however  much  they  may  do  in  science  and  literature ;  which  comes  back  to 
my  old  opinion  that  such  pursuits  will  not  do  for  a  man's  main  business,  and 
that  they  must  be  used  in  subordination  to  a  clearly  perceived  Christian 
end,  -and  looked  upon  as  of  most  subordinate  value,  or  else  they  become  as 
fatal  as  absolute  idleness.  In  fact,  the  house  is  spiritually  empty,  so  long  as 
the  pearl  of  great  price  is  not  there,  although  it  may  be  hung  with  all  the 
decorations  of  earthly  knowledge.     But,  in  saying  this  I  do  not  allude  to 

,  but  to  a  class ;  I  heard  him  say  notbing  amiss,  except  negatively ;  and 

I  have  great  reason  to  thank  him  for  his  civility.  But  it  is  so  delightful  to 
meet  with  a  man  like  Bunsen,  with  whom  I  know  that  all  is  right,  that  per- 
haps the  contrast  of  those  with  whom  I  cannot  feel  the  same  certainty,  is  the 
more  striking. 

8.  We  found  the  Savignys  at  home,  and  I  had  some  considerable  talk 
with  Savigny  about  the  Roman  Law,  which  was  satisfactory  to  me  on  this 
account, — that,  I  found  that  I  knew  enough  of  the  subject  to  understand 
what  its  difficulties  were,  and  that  in  conversing  with  the  most  profound 
master  of  the  Roman  Law  in  Europe,  I  found  that  I  had  been  examining 
the  right  sources  of  information.  He  thought  that  the  Tribes  voted  upon 
laws  down  to  a  late  period  of  the  Emperors'  government. 

Rome,  May,  1827. 

9.  Lastly,  we  ascended  to  the  top  of  the  Colosseum,  Bunsen  leaving  us 

at  the  door,  to  go  home  ;  and  I  seated  myselfwith ,  just  above  the  main 

entrance,  towards  the  Forum,  and  there  took  my  farewell  look  over  Rome. 
It  was  a  delicious  evening,  and  every  thing  was  looking  to  advantage : — the 
huge  Colosseum  just  under  me, — the  tufts  of  ilex  and  aliternus,  and  other 
shrubs  that  fringe  the  ruins  every  where  in  the  lower  parts, — while  the  out- 
side wall,  with  its  top  of  gigantic  stones,  lifts  itself  high  above,  and  seems 
like  a  mountain  barrier  of  bare  rock,  inclosing  a  green  and  varied  valley. — 
I  sat  and  gazed  upon  the  scene  with  an  intense  and  mingle'd  feeling.  The 
world  could  show  nothing  grander;  it  was  one  which  for  years  I  had  longed 
to  see,  and  I  was  now  looking  at  it  for  the  last  time.  I  do  not  think  you  will 
be  jealous,  dearest,  if  I  confess  that  I  could  not  take  leave  of  it  without 
something  of  regret.     Even  with  you  and  our  darlings,  I  would  not  live  out 


APPENDIX  C.  453 

of  our  dear  country,  to  which  I  feel  bound  alike  by  every  tie  of  duty  and 
affection;  and  to  be  here  a  vagrant,  without  you,  is  certainly  very  far  from 
happiness.  Not  for  an  instant  would  I  prolong  my  absence  from  Laleham, 
yet  still  I  feel,  at  leaving  Rome,  very  differently  from  what  I  ever  felt  at 
leaving  any  other  place  not  more  endeared  than  this  is  by  personal  ties : 
and  when  1  last  see  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's  I  shall  seem  to  be  parting  from 
more  than  a  mere  town  full  of  curiosities,  where  the  eye  has  been  amused 
and  the  intellect  gratified.  I  never  thought  to  have  felt  thus  tenderly  towards 
Rome ;  but  the  inexpressible  solemnity  and  beauty  of  her  ruined  condition 
has  quite  bewitched  me ;  and  to  the  latest  hour  of  my  life  I  shall  remember 
the  Forum,  the  surrounding  hills,  and  the  magnificent  Colosseum. 

On  the  mountain  side,  above  the  Lake  of  Como,  (second  visit  ) 

May  19,  1827. 

10.  I  am  now  seated,  dearest  Mary,  very  nearly  in  the  same  spot  from 

which  I  took  my  sketch  with in  1825 ;  and  I  am  very  glad  to  be  here 

again,  for  certainly  the  steam-boat  had  given  no  adequate  impression  of  the 
beauties  of  this  lake,  and  I  did  not  wish  to  go  away  from  it  admiring  it  less 
than  I  did  the  last  time.  But  now,  seated  under  its  chestnut  woods,  and 
looking  down  upon  its  clear  water,  it  appears  as  beautiful  as  ever.  Again  I 
see  the  white  sails  specking  it,  and  the  cliff  running  down  sheer  into  it,  and 
the  village  of  Tomo  running  out  into  it  on  its  little  peninsula,  and  Blevio 
nearer  to  me,  and  the  houses  sometimes  lining  the  water's  edge,  and  some- 
times clustering  up  amidst  the  chestnuts.  How  strange  to  be  sitting  twice 
within  two  years  in  the  same  place,  on  the  shores  of  an  Italian  lake,  and  to 
be  twice  describing  the  selfsame  scenery.  But  now  I  feel  to  be  taking  a 
final  leave  of  it,  and  to  be  viewing  the  inexpressible  beauty  of  these  lakes 
for  the  last  time.  And  I  am  fully  satisfied ; — for  their  images  will  remain 
for  ever  in  my  memory,  and  one  has  something  else  to  do  in  life  than  to  be 
for  ever  running  about  after  objects  to  delight  the  eye  or  the  intellect. 
"  This  I  say,  brethren;  the  time  is  short;"  and  how  much  is  to  be  done  in 
that  time  !  May  God,  who  has  given  me  so  much  enjoyment,  give  me  grace 
to  be  duly  active  and  zealous  in  His  service  ;  that  I  may  make  this  relaxa- 
tion really  useful,  and  hallow  it  as  His  gift,  through  Christ  Jesus.  May  I 
not  be  idle  or  selfish,  or  vainly  romantic ;  but  sober,  watchful,  diligent^  and 
full  of  love  to  my  brethren. 


III.      TOUR    IN    GERMANY. 

June  9,  1828. 

1.  Early  this  morning  we  left  Aix,  and  came-on  to  Cologne.  The  country, 
which  about  Aix  is  very  pretty,  soon  degenerates  into  great  masses  of  table 
land,  divided  at  long  intervals  by  the  valley  of  the  Roer,  in  which  is  Juliers, 
or  Julich,  where  we  breakfasted,  and  that  of  the  Ernst,  in  which  is  Berg- 
heim.  All  this  was  dull  enough,  but  the  weather  mean  time  was  steadying 
and  settling  itself,  and  the  distances  were  getting  very  clear,  and  at  last  our 
table  land  ended  and  sank  down  into  a  plain,  and  from  the  edge  of  it,  as  we 
began  to  descend,  we  burst  upon  the  view  of  the  valley  of  the  Rhine,  the 
city  of  Cologne  with  all  its  towers,  the  Rhine  itself  distinctly  seen  at  the 
distance  of  seven  miles, — the  Seven  Mountains  above  Bonn  on  our  right, 
and  a  boundless  sweep  of  the  country  beyond  the  Rhine  in  front  of  us.  To 
be  sure,  it  was  a  striking  contrast  to  the  first  view  of  the  valley  of  the  Tiber 
from  the  mountain  of  Viterbo;  but  the  Rhine  in  mighty  recollections  will 
vie  with  any  thing,  and  this  spot  was  particularly  striking :  Cologne  was 
Agrippa's  colony  inhabited  by  Germans,  brought  from  beyond  the  river,  to 
live  as  the  subjects  of  Rome;  the  river  itself  was  the  frontier  of  the  Empire 
— the  limit  as  it  were  of  two  worlds,  that  of  Roman  laws  and  customs,  and 


454 


LIFE   OF   DR.  ARNOLD. 


that  of  German.  Far  before  us  lay  the  land  of  our  Saxon  and  Teutonic 
forefathers— the  land  uncorrupted  by  Roman  or  any  other  mixture;  the 
birth-place  of  the  most  moral  races  of  men  that  the  world  has  yet  seen— of 
the  soundest  laws— the  least  violent  passions,  and  the  fairest  domestic  and 
civil  virtues.  I  thought  of  that  memorable1  defeat  of  Varus  and  his  three 
legions,  which  for  ever  confined  the  Romans  to  the  western  side  of  the  Rhine, 
and  preserved  the  Teutonic  nation,— the  regenerating  element  in  modern 
Europe, — safe  and  free. 

On  the  Elbe,  a  little  before  sunset.    July,  1828. 

2.  We  are  now  near  Pirna,  that  is,  near  the  end  of  the  Sa::on  Switzer- 
land;  the  cliffs  which  here  line  the  river  on  both  sides— a  wall  of  cliff  rising 
out  of  wood,  and  crowned  with  wood— will  in  a  very  short  time  sink  down 
into  plains,  or  at  the  best  into  gentle  slopes,  and  the  Elbe  will  wind  through 
one  unvaried  flat  from  this  point  till  it  reaches  the  sea.  There  is  to  me 
something  almost  affecting  in  the  striking  analogy  of  rivers  to  the  course  of 
human  lite  and  my  fondness  for  them  makes  me  notice  it  more  in  them  than 
in  any  other  objects  in  which  it  may  exist  equally.  The  Elbe  rises  in 
plains ;  it  flows  through  plains  for  some  way ;  then  for  many  miles  it  runs 
through  the  beautiful  scenery  which  we  have  been  visiting,  and  then  it  is 
plain  °ao-ain  for  all  the  rest  of  its  course.  Even  yet,  dearest,  and  we  have 
reached"  our  middle  course  in  the  ordinary  run  of  life  ;  how  much  more  fa- 
voured have  we  been  than  this  river ;  for  hitherto  we  have  gone  on  through 
nothing  but  a  fair  country,  yet  so  far  like  the  Elbe,  that  the  middle  has  been 
the  loveliest.  And  what  if  our  course  is  henceforth  to  run  through  plains  as 
dreary  as  those  of  the  Elbe,  for  we  are  now  widely  separated,  and  1  may  never 
be  allowed  to  return  to  you ;  and  I  know  not  what  may  happen,  or  may 
even  now  have  happened  to  you.  Then  the  river  may  be  our  comfort,  for 
we  are  passing  on  as  it  passes,  and  we  are  going  to  the  bosom  of  that  Being 
who  sent  us  forth,  even  as  the  rivers  return  to  the  sea,  the  general  fountain 
of  all  waters.  Thus  much  is  natural  religion, — not  surely  to  be  despised  or 
neglected,  though  we  have  more  given  us  than  any  thing  which  the  analo- 
gyof  nature  can  parallel.  For  He  who  trod  the  sea,  and  whose  path  is  in  the 
deep  waters,  has  visited  us  with  so  many  manifestations  of  His  grace,  and 
is  our  God  by  such  other  high  titles,  greater  than  that  of  creation,  that  to 
him  who  puts  out  the  arm  of  faith,  and  brings  the  mercies  that  are  round 
him  home  to  his  own  particular  use,  how  full  of  overflowing  comfort  must 
the  world  be,  even  when  its  plains  are  the  dreariest  and  loneliest !  Well 
may  every  one  of  Christ's  disciples  repeat  to  him  the  prayer  made  by  His 
first  twelve,  "  Lord  increase  our  faith !"  and  well  may  He  wonder — as  the 
Scripture  applies  such  a  term  to  God — that  our  faith  is  so  little.  Be  it 
strengthened  in  us,  dearest  wife,  and  in  our  children,  that  we  may  be  all  one 
now  and  evermore,  in  Christ  Jesus. 


IV.      TOUR    IN    SWITZERLAND   AND"   NORTH    OF   ITALY. 

July  16,  1829. 

1.  How  completely  is  the  Jura  like  Cithreron,  with  its  van  at  and  ).fi/iwri<;, 
and  all  that  scenery  which  Euripides  has  given  to  the  life  in  the  Bacchffi. 
Immediately  beyond  the  post  house,  at  S.  Cergues,  the  view  opens, — one 
that  I  never  saw  surpassed,  nor  can  I  ever;  for  if  America  should  afford 
scenes  of  greater  natural  beauty,  yet  the  associations  cannot  be  the  same. 

No  time,  to  civilized  man,  can  make  the  Andes  like  the  Alps ;  another 
Deluo-e  alone  could  place  them  on  a  level.     There  was  the  Lake  of  Geneva, 

1  This,  and  the  defeat  of  the  Moors  by  Charles  Martel,  he  used  to  rank  as  the  two 
most  important  battles  in  the  world. 


APPENDIX  C. 


455 


with  its  inimitable  and  indescribable  blue, — the  whole  range  of  the  moun- 
tains which  bound  its  southern  shore, — the  towns  that  edge  its  banks, — the 
rich  plain  between  us  and  its  waters, — and  immediately  around  us,  the  pines 
and  oaks  of  the  Jura,  and  its  deep  glens,  and  its  thousand  flowers, — out  of 
which  we  looked  on  this  Paradise. 

Genoa,  July  29,  1829. 

2.  Once  again  I  am  on  the  shore  of  the  Mediterranean.  I  saw  it  only 
from  a  distance  when  I  was  last  in  Italy,  but  now  I  am  once  more  on  its 
very  edge,  and  have  been  on  it  and  in  it.  True  it  is,  that  the  Mediterranean 
is  no  more  than  a  vast  mass  of  salt  water,  if  people  choose  to  think  it  so  ;  but 
it  is  also  the  most  magnificent  thing  in  the  world,  if  you  choose  to  think  it 
so ;  and  it  is  as  truly  the  latter  as  it  is  the  former.  And  as  the  pococurante 
temper  is  not  the  happiest,  and  that  which  can  admire  heartily  is  much  . 
more  akin  to  that  which  can  love  heartily,  6  3i  ayccnojv,  &eai  -ijd'ti  o/<otos, — so, 
my  children,  I  wish  that  if  ever  you  come  to  Genoa,  you  may  think  the  Med- 
iterranean to  be.  more  than  any  common  sea,  and  may  be  unable  to  look 
upon  it  without  a  deep  stirring  of  delight. 

On  the  Lake  of  Como,  August  3,  1829. 

3.  I  fancy  how  delightful  it  would  be  to  bring  one's  family  and  live  here  ; 
but  then,  happily,  I  think  and  feel  how  little  such  voluptuous  enjoyment 
would  repay  lor  abandoning  the  line  of  usefulness  and  activity  which  I 
have  in  England,  and  how  the  feeling  myself  helpless  and  useless,  living 
merely  to  look  about  me,  and  training  up  my  children  in  the  same  way, 
would  soon  make  all  this  beauty  pall,  and  appear  even  wearisome.  But  to 
see  it  as  we  are  now  doing,  in  our  moments  of  recreation,  to  strengthen  us 
for  work  to  come,  and  to  gild  with  beautiful  recollections  our  daily  life  of 
home  duties ; — this,  indeed,  is  delightful,  and  is  a  pleasure  which  1  think  we 
may  enjoy  without  restraint.  England  has  other  destinies  than  these  coun- 
tries,— I  use  the  word  in  no  foolish  or  unchristian  sense, — but  she  has  other 
destinies  ;  her  people  have  more  required  of  them  ;  with  her  full  intelligence, 
her  restless  activity,  her  enormous  means,  and  enormous  difficulties  ;  her 
pure  religion  and  unchecked  freedom  ;  her  form  of  society,  with  so  much  of 
evil,  yet  so  much  of  good  in  it,  and  such  immense  power  conferred  by  it ; — 
her  citizens,  least  of  all  men,  should  think  of  their  own  rest  or  enjoyment, 
but  should  cherish  every  faculty  and  improve  every  opportunity  to  the  utter- 
most, to  do  good  to  themselves  and  to  the  world.  Therefore  these  lovely 
valleys,  and  this  surpassing  beauty  of  lake  and  mountain,  and  garden  and 
wood,  are  least,  of  all  men,  for  us  to  covet ;  and  our  country,  so  entirely  sub- 
dued as  it  is  to  man's  uses,  with  its  gentle  hills  and  valleys,  its  innumerable 
canals  and  coaches,  is  best  suited  as  an  instrument  of  usefulness. 


V.      TOUR    IN    NORTH    OF   ITALY. 

Chambcrri,July  17,1830. 

1.  The  state  of  feeling  displayed  by ,  and  the  rest  of  the  party,  filled 

me  with  thoughts  that  might  make  a  volume.  It  was,  I  fear,  certainly  un- 
christian and  ultra-liberal;  looking  to  war  with  very  little  dismay,  but 
anxious  to  spread  every  where  what  they  considered  liberal  views,  "  lea 

Idees  du  Siecle,"  and  so  intolerant  of  any  thing  old,  that made  it  a 

matter  of  reproach  to  our  Government  that  Guernsey  and  Jersey  still 
retained  their  old  Norman  laws.  They  were  strongly  Anti-Anglican,  regard- 
ing England  as  the  great  enemy  to   all  improvement  all   over  the  world. 

Now  as  to  mending and ,  that  is  not  our  concern  ;  but  for  ourselves, 

it  did  fill  me  with  earnest  thoughts  of  the  fearful  conflict  that  must  soon  take 


456  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

place  between  the  friends  and  enemies  of  the  old  system  of  things,  and  the 
provoking  intermixture  of  evil  in  the  latter,  which  makes  it  impossible  to 
sympathize  wholly  in  their  success.  I  was  struck,  too,  with  the  total  isola- 
tion of  England  from  the  European  world.  We  are  considered  like  the 
inhabitants  of  another  planet,  feared,  perhaps,  and  respected  in  many  points, 
but  not  loved,  and  in  no  respect  understood  or  sympathized  with.  And 
how  much  is  our  state  the  same  with  regard  to  the  Continent.  How  little 
did  we  seem  to  know,  or  to  value  their  feelings,  how  little  do  we  appreciate 

or  imitate  their  intellectual  progress Is  it  never  to  be  that 

men  shall  be  at  once  Christians,  and  really  liberal  and  wise  :  and  shall  the 
improvement  of  our  social  condition  always  be  left  to  unhallowed  hands  to 
effect  it  ?  I  conclude  with  the  lament  of  the  Persian  noble  : — ix&torij  odvvt] 
nolla  cpQavsowta,  fivdivoq  xyariiix ;  or  rather,  I  should  say,  it  would  be  f^&lort] 
63rrrj,  did  we  not  believe  that  there  was  One  in  whom  infinite  wisdom  was 
accompanied  with  infinite  power ;  and  whose  will  for  us  is  that  we  should 
follow  after  what  is  good  ourselves,  but  should  not  wonder  or  be  disappointed 
if  "  another  take  the  city,  and  it  be  called  after  his  name."  There  is  a  want 
of  moral  wisdom  among  the  Continental  Liberals,  as  among  their  opponents 
both  abroad  and  at  home,  which  makes  one  tremble  to  follow  such  guides. 

I  gave  my  Thucydides  to ;  would  that  he  could  read  it  and  profit  by  it ; 

for,  sad  to  say,  Thucydides  seems  to  me  to  have  been  not  only  a  fairer  and 
abler  man,  but  one  of  a  far  sounder  moral  sense,  and  deeper  principle  than 
the  modern  Liberals.  Between  what  a  Scylla  and  Charybdis  does  the  state 
of  society  seem  to  be  wavering,  the  brute  ignorance  and  coarse  common- 
place selfishness  of  the  Tories,  and  the  presumption  and  intellectual  fever 
of  the  Liberals.  "  To  the  Jews  a  stumbling-block,  and  to  the  Greeks  fool- 
ishness: but  to  them  who  believe,  both  Jews  and  Greeks,  Christ,  the  power 
of  God,  and  the  wisdom  of  God, — Af,ir\v  vou  iqxov,  Kvqk' Iijaov. 

Varese,  July  24,  1630. 

2.  We  arrived  here,  at  the  Star  Inn,  the  post,  about  a  quarter  after  five, 

got  a  hasty  dinner,  and and  I  were  in  our  carriage,  or  rather  in  a  light 

cabriolet,  hired  for  the  purpose,  a  little  after  six,  to  drive  about  two  miles 
out,  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain  of  S.  Maria.  At  the  foot  of  the  mountain 
we  began  to  walk,  the  road  being  a  sort  of  paved  way  round  the  mountain 
in  great  zig-zags,  and  passing  by  in  the  ascent  about  twenty  chapels  or 
arches,  introductory  to  the  one  at  the  summit.  Over  the  first  of  these  was 
written,  "  Her  foundations  are  upon  the  holy  hills  ;"  and  other  passages  of 
Scripture  were  written  over  the  succeeding  ones.  In  one  of  these  chapels, 
looking  in  through  the  window,  we  saw  that  it  was  full  of  waxen  figures  as 
large  as  life,  representing  the  Apostles  on  the  day  of  Pentecost ;  and  in 
another  there  was  the  sepulchre  hewn  out  of  the  rock,  and  the  Apostles 
coming,  as  on  the  morning  of  the  Resurrection,  "  to  see  the  place  where 
Jesus  lay."  I  confess,  these  waxen  figures  seemed  to  me  any  thing  but  ab- 
surd ;  from  the  solemnity  of  the  place  altogether,  and  from  the  goodness  of 
the  execution,  I  looked  on  them  with  no  disposition  to  laugh  or  to  criticise. 
But  what  I  did  not  expect  was  the  exceeding  depth  and  richness  of  the 
chestnut  shade,  through  which  the  road  partially  ran,  only  coming  out  at 
every  turning  to  the  extreme  edge  of  the  mountain,  and  so  commanding  the 
view  on  every  side.  But  when  we  got  to  the  summit  we  saw  a  path  leading 
up  to  the  green  edge  of  a  cliff  on  the  mountain  above,  and  we  thought  if  we 
could  get  there  we  should  probably  see  Lugano.  Accordingly,  on  we 
walked;  till  just  at  sunset  we  got  out  to  the  crown  of  the  ridge,  the  brow  of 
an  almost  precipitous  cliff,  looking  down  on  the  whole  mountain  of  S.  Maria 
del  Monte,  which  on  this  side  presented  nothing  but  a  large  mass  of  rock 
and  cliff,  a  perfect  contrast  to  the  rich  wood  of  its  other  side.  But  neither 
S.  Maria  del  Monte,  nor  the  magnificent  view  of  the  plain  of  Lombardy, 
one  mass  of  rich  verdure,  enlivened  with  its  thousand  white  houses  and 


APPENDIX  C. 


457 


church  towers,  were  the  objects  which  we  most  gazed  upon.  We  looked 
westward  full  upon  the  whole  range  of  mountains  behind  which,  in  a  cloud- 
less sky,  the  sun  had  just  descended.  It  is  utterly  idle  to  attempt  a  descrip- 
tion of  such  a  scene.  I  counted  twelve  successive  mountain  outlines  between 
us  and  the  farthest  horizon  :  and  the  most  remote  of  all,  the  high  peaks  of 
the  Alps,  were  brought  out  strong  and  dark  in  the  glowing  sky  behind  them 
so  that  their  edge  seemed  actually  to  cut  it.  Immediately  below  our  eyes 
plunged  into  a  depth  of  chestnut  forest,  varied  as  usual  with  meadows  and 
villages,  and  beyond,  embosomed  amidst  the  nearer  mountains,  lay  the  Lake 
of  Lugano.  As  if  every  thing  combined  to  make  the  scene  perfect,  the 
mountain  on  which  we  stood  was  covered,  to  my  utter  astonishment,  with 
the  Daphne  Cneorum,  and  I  found  two  small  pieces  in  flower  to  ascertain 
the  fact,  although  generally  it  was  out  of  bloom.  We  stood  gazing  on  the 
view  and  hunting  about  to  find  the  Daphne  in  flower,  till  the  shades  of  dark- 
ness were  fast  rising ;  then  we  descended  from  our  height,  went  down  the 
mountain  of  S.  Maria,  refreshing  ourselves  on  the  way  at  one  of  the  delicious 
fountains  which  are  made  beside  the  road,  regained  our  carriage  at  the  foot 
of  the  mountain,  and,  though  we  had  left  our  coats  and  neckcloths  at  Varese 
before  we  started,  and  were  hot  through  and  through  with  the  skirmish,  yet 
the  soft  air  of  these  summer  nights  has  nothing  chilly  in  it,  and  we  were 
only  a  little  refreshed  by  the  coolness  during  our  drive  home.  I  now  look 
out  on  a  sky  bright  with  its  thousand  stars,  and  have  observed  a  little  sum- 
mer lightning  behind  the  mountains.  If  any  one  wishes  for  the  perfection 
of  earthly  beauty,  he  should  see  such  a  sunset  as  we  saw  this  evening  from 
the  mountain  above  S.  Maria  del  Monte. 

3.  Mule  track  above  the  Lake  of  Como,  under  the  chestnuts, 
July  25,  1830.    (Third  visit  ) 

3.  Once  more,  dearest  Mary,  for  the  third  time,  seated  under  these  deli- 
cious chestnuts,  and  above  this  delicious  lake,  with  the  blue  sky  above,  and 
the  green  lake  beneath,  and  Monte  Rosa  and  the  S.  Gothard,  and  the 
Simplon  rearing  their  snowy  heads  in  the  distance.  It  would  be  a  profana- 
tion of  this  place  to  use  it  for  common  journal ;  I  came  out  here  with 

partly  to  enjoy  the  associations  which  this  lake  in  a  peculiar  manner  has 
connected  with  it  to  my  mind.  Last  year  it  did  not  signify  that  I  was  not 
here,  for  you  were  with  me ;  but,  with  you  absent,  I  should  have  grieved  to 
have  visited  Como,  and  not  have  come  to  this  sweet  spot.  I  see  no  change 
in  the  scenery  since  I  was  last  here  in  1827,  and  I  feel  very  little,  if  any 
in  myself.  Yet  for  me,  "  summer  is  now  ebbing;"  since  I  was  here  last,  I 
have  passed  the  middle  point  of  man's  life,  and  it  is  hardly  possible  that  I 
should  be  here  again  without  feeling  some  change.  If  we  were  here  with 
our  dear  children,  that  itself  would  be  a  change,  and  I  hardly  expect  to  be 
again  on  this  very  spot,  without  having  them.  But  what  matters,  or  rather 
what  should  matter,  change  or  no  change,  so  that  the  decaying  body  and  less 
vigorous  intellect  were  but  accompanied  with  a  more  thriving  and  more 
hopeful  life  of  the  spirit.  It  is  almost  awful  to  look  at  the  overwhelming 
beauty  around  me,  and  then  think  of  moral  evil ;  it  seems  as  if  heaven  and 
hell,  instead  of  being  separated  by  a  great  gulph  from  one  another,  were 
absolutely  on  each  other's  confines,  and  indeed  not  far  from  every  one  of  us. 
Might  the  sense  of  moral  evil  be  as  strong  in  me  as  my  delight  in  external 
beauty,  for  in  a  deep  sense  of  moral  evil,  more  perhaps  than  in  any  thing 
else,  abides  a  saving  knowledge  of  God !  It  is  not  so  much  to  admire  moral 
good  ;  that  we  may  do,  and  yet  not  be  ourselves  conformed  to  it ;  but  if  we 
really  do  abhor  that  which  is  evil,  not  the  persons  in  whom  evil  resides,  but 
the  evil  which  dwelleth  in  them,  and  much  more  manifestly  and  certainly  to 
our  own  knowledge,  in  our  own  hearts — this  is  to  have  the  feeling  of  God 
and  of  Christ,  and  to  have  our  spirit  in  sympathy  with  the  Spirit  of  God. 
Alas!  how  easy  to  see  this  and  say  it — how  hard  to  do.it  and  to  feel  itl 

30 


458  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

Who  is  sufficient  for  these  things  ?  No  one,  but  he  who  feels  and  really 
laments  his  own  insufficiency.  God  bless  you,  my  dearest  wife,  and  our  be- 
loved children,  now  and  evermore,  through  Christ  Jesus. 

July  29,  1830. 

4.  The  Laquais  de  Place,  at  Padua,  was  a  good  one  of  his  kind,  and 
finding  that  his  knowledge  of  French  was  much  less  than  mine  of  Italian,  if 
that  be  possible,  we  talked  wholly  in  Italian.  He  said  that  the  taxes  now 
were  four  times  as  heavy  as  under  the  old  Venetian  government,  or  under 
the  French.  He  himself,  when  a  young  man,  had  volunteered  into  the  re- 
publican army,  after  the  overthrow  of  the  Venetian  aristocracy  in  1797,  and 
had  fought  at  Marengo,  where  he  was  wounded.  He  saia  they  had  in  Pa- 
dua a  Casa  di  Ricovero,  or  asylum  for  the  infirm  and  infant  po-.r,  and  here 
also,  he  said,  relief  was  given  to  men  in  full  age  and  vigour,  when  they  were 
thrown  out  of  employment.  I  asked  how  it  was  supported.  He  said,  chiefly 
by  bequests  ;  for  whenever  a  man  of  property  died,  the  priest  who  attended 
him  never  failed  to  suggest  to  him  that  he  should  leave  something  to  the 
Casa  di  Ricovero  ;  and  he  seemed  to  think  it  almost  a  matter  of  course  that 
such  a  recommendation  should  be  attended  to.  It  seems  then,  that  in  the 
improved  state  of  society,  the  influence  of  the  Catholic  clergy  is  used  for 
purposes  of  general  charity,  and  not  for  their  own  advantage ;  and  who 
would  not  wish  that  our  clergy  dared  to  exercise  something  of  the  same  in- 
fluence over  our  higher  classes,  and  could  prevent  that  most  unchristian 
spirit  of  family  selfishness  and  pride,  by  which  too  many  wills  of  our  rich 
men  are  wholly  dictated?  But  our  Church  bears,  and  has  ever  borne  the 
marks  of  her  birth ;  the  child  of  regal  and  aristocratical  selfishness  and  un- 
principled tyranny,  she  has  never  dared  to  speak  boldly  to  the  great,  but  has 
contented  herself  with  lecturing  the  poor.  "  I  will  speak  of  thy  testimonies 
even  before  kings,  and  will  not  be  ashamed,"  is  a  text  which  the  Anglican 
Church,  as  a  national  institution,  seems  never  to  have  caught  the  spirit  of. 
Folly,  and  worse  than  folly  is  it,  to  think  that  preaching  what  are  called  or- 
thodox doctrines  before  the  great  is  really  preaching  to  them  the  Gospel. 
Unless  the  particular  conclusions  which  they  should  derive  from  those 
doctrines  be  impressed  upon  them  ;  unless  they  are  warned  against  the  par- 
ticular sins  to  which  they  are  tempted  by  their  station  in  society,  and  urged 
to  the  particular  duties  which  their  political  and  social  state  requires  of  them, 
the  Gospel  will  be  heard  without  offence,  and  therefore,  one  may  almost 
•say,  without  benefit.  Of  course  I  do  not  mean  offence  at  the  manner  in 
which  it  is  preached,  nor  offence  indeed,  at  all,  in  the  common  sense  of  the 
word ;  but  a  feeling  of  soreness  that  they  are  touched  by  what  they  hear,  a 
feeling  that  makes  the  conscience  uneasy  because  it  cannot  conceal  from 
itself  that  its  own  practice  is  faulty. 

Latsch,  August  3,  1830. 

5.  In  the  market-place  at  Meran,  there  is  a  large  statue  of  the  Virgin,  to 
commemorate  two  deliverances  from  the  French,  in  1796,  and  in  1799,  when 
the  enemy  on  one  occasion  came  as  far  as  J3otzen,  and  on  the  other  as  far 
as  Glurns  and  Eyers.  But  this  is  so  exactly  a  thing  after  the  manner  of 
Herodotus,  that  I  must  for  a  few  lines  borrow  his  language. 

"Eaxijxt  Si  iv  f.it(jtj  xfj  dyoojj  dyaXfta  IjvXiov 'A&rivrjq  dXt£ixdy.ov  iaxl  Si  xo  ayaXpa 
xal  yjaifirj  xctt  ^gyo)  ily.aaf.nvov  xal  xr\  uiv  xfipaXfj  tijq  &eov  nfQixitxai,  oxt<j,a- 
voq  doTf\>o)i',  t\i  di  az<r\Xr\  noXXu  iniytyudnxai,  xr\v  aixCi\v  xov  dva&-tj/,taxoq  ano- 
d e ix vv f(i>'a.  *Hv  yao  noxi  /aiyaq  dvd  ndorjv,  wq  tlntiv,  'Evowtiijv  noXifioq' 
ov/vai  Si  iyivovxo  noXfuiv  avanxamtq,  ixl  di  jtaXXov  dytjojv  d'rjojoiiq  xal  dvO-oui- 
Ttwv  (fovoi.  'Ev  pit'  (ov  xovxw  xw  aoXtfua  /.u'yiorct  drj  Ttartuv  *{>y<x  a7itdt'S<*vro 
ol  raXdraf  xal  TtoXbq  Inixuxo  naorjoi  xfjoi  niijiwxtifiirrjoi,  noXfoiv  o  dri  avxQv 
jxlvSvvoq.  Ovtol  ol  FaXdxai,  'Avaxoidvoiq  inoyifiovv  •  xov  df  'Avax^idviuv  fiaa(- 
lioq  to  TigioXfxov  t&i'oq  t\v  imr\xoov.  Ol  Hi  'AvoxoCavoi  noXXjjoiv  ijd'q  /Aax-rjat, 
vixr\d-ivxiqt  xaxiaq  i'naaxov '  xal  ne^l  xijq  f avxwv  dijxtjq  ^St]  xa&loxaxo  6  ayuJv 


APPENDIX  C. 


459 


ta&ikrjg.  Au.a  ye  ol  Meyavoi  iq  O-iiov  tt  aiafeoorreq  to  7igijyfia,  xal  ov 
vxfi  fiaUov  ij  O-tujv  ivvoUf  ow&tjvai  rote  {jyvovftevni,  to  re  ayakfia  rij  &tw 
ve&rjxav,  y.ai  hi  iq  to  viv  ail,  wq  oV  avtrjv  neQiyiyvo/ievoi,  Siaqieoovrux;  rifiuot. 

[This  account  of  his  visit  to  Niebuhr,  being  written  in  the  carriage  on 
the  journeys  of  the  subsequent  days,  was  interspersed  with  remarks  on  the 
route,  which  have  been  omitted.] 

August,  1830. 

6 In  person  Niebuhr  is  short,  not  above  five  feet  six,  or 

seven,  I  should  think,  at  the  outside ;  his  face  is  thin,  and  his  features  rather 
pointed,  his  eyes  remarkably  lively  and  benevolent.  His  manner  is  1'rank 
sensible  and  kind  ;  and  what  Bunsen  calls  the  Teutonic  character  of  benevo- 
lence, is  very  predominant  about  him,  yet  with  nothing  of  what  Jeffrey 
called,  on  the  other  hand,  the  beer-drinking  heaviness  of  a  mere  Saxon. 
He  received  me  very  kindly  and  we  talked  in  English,  which  he  speaks 
very  well,  on  a  great  number  of  subjects.  I  was  struck  with  his  minute 
knowledge  of  the  Text  and  Mss.  of  Thucydides,  and  with  his  earnest  hope 
several  times  repeated,  that  we  might  never  do  away  with  the  system  of 
classical  education  in  England. — I  told  him  of 's  nonsense  about  Guern- 
sey and  Jersey,  at  which  he  was  very  much  entertained,  but  said  that  it  did 
not  surprise  him.  He  said  that  he  was  now  much  more  inclined  to  change 
old  institutions  than  he  had  been  formerly, — but  "  possibly,"  said  he,  "  I  may 
see  reason  in  two  or  three  years  to  go  back  more  to  my  old  views."  Yet 
he  anticipated  no  evil  consequences  to  the  peace  of  Europe,  even  from  a 
Republic  in  France,  for  he  thought  that  all  classes  of  people  had  derived 
benefit  from  experience. 

Niebuhr  spoke  with  great  admiration  of  our  former  great  men,  Pitt  and 
Fox,  &c,  and  thought  that  we  were  degenerated  ;  and  he  mentioned  as 

a  very  absurd  thing  a  speech  of ,  who  visited  him  at  Bonn,  that  if  those 

men  were  now  to  come  to  life,  they  would  be  thought  nothing  of  with  our 
present  lights  in  political  economy.     Niebuhr  asked  me  with  much  interest 
about  my  plans  of  religious  instruction  at  Rugby,  and  said  that  in  their 
Protestant  schools  the  business  began  daily  with  the  reading  and  expounding 
a  chapter  in  the  New  Testament.     He  spoke  of  the  Catholics  in  Prussia  ae 
being  very  hypocritical,  that  is,  having  no  belief  beyond  outward  profession. 
Bunsen,  he  said,  was  going  to  publish  a  collection  of  German  hymns  for  the 
Church  service.     Their  literature  is  very  rich  in  hymns  in  point  of  quantity 
no  fewer  than  36,000,  and  out  of  these  Bunsen  is  going  to  collect  the  best. 
Niebuhr's  tone  on  these  matters  quite  satisfied,  me,  and  made  me  feel  sure 
that  all  was  right.     He  spoke  with  great  admiration  of  Wordsworth's  poetry. 
He  often  protested  that  he  was  no  revolutionist,  but  he  said,  though  he 
would  have  given  a  portion  of  his  fortune  that  Charles  X.  should  have  go- 
verned constitutionally,  and  so  remained  on  the  throne,  "yet,"  said  he 
"  after  what  took  place,  I  would  myself  have  joined  the  people  in  Paris  that 
is  to  say,  I  would  have  given  them  my  advice  and  direction,  for  I  do  not 
know  that  I  should  have  done  much  good  with  a  musket."     Niebuhr  spoke 
of  Mr.  Pitt,  that  to  his  positive  knowledge,  from  unpublished  State  Papers, 
which  he  had  seen,  Pitt  had  remonstrated  most  warmly  against  the  coalition 
at  Pilnitz,  and  had  been  unwillingly  drawn  into  the  war  to  gratify  George 
III. — My  account  of  Niebuhr's  conversation  has  been  sadly  broken,  and  I 
am  afraid  I  cannot  recollect  all  that  I  wish  to  recollect.     He  said  that  he 
once  owed  his  life  to  Louis  Bonaparte,  who  interceded  with  Napoleon  when 
he  was  going  to  have  Niebuhr  shot;  and  promised  Niebuhr  that,  if  he  could 
not  persuade  his  brother,  he  would  get  him  twenty-four  hours'  notice,  and 
furnish  him  with  the  means  of  escaping  to  England.     After  this  Niebuhr 
met  Louis  at  Rome,  and  he  said  that  he  did  not  well  know  how  to  address 


460  LIFE  0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

him  ;  but  he  thought  that  the  service  which  he  had  received  from  him  might 
well  excuse  him  for  addressing  him  as  "  Sire."  He  asked  me  into  the  draw- 
ing-room to  drink  tea,  and  introduced  me  to  his  wife.  Niebuhr's  children 
also  were  in  the  room,  four  girls  and  a  boy,  with  a  young  lady,  who,  I  be- 
lieve, was  their  governess.  They  struck  me  as  very  nice  mannered  children, 
and  it  was  very  delightful  to  see  Niebuhr's  affectionate  manner  to  them  and 
to  his  wife.  While  we  were  at  tea,  there  came  in  a  young  man  with  the  in- 
telligence that  the  Duke  of  Orleans  had  been  proclaimed  king,  and  Niebuhr's 
joy  at  the  news  was  quite  enthusiastic.  He  had  said  before  that,  in  the 
present  state  of  society,  a  Republic  was  not  to  his  taste,  and  that  he  earnestly 
hoped  that  there  would  be  no  attempt  to  revive  it  in  France.  He  went 
home  with  me  to  my  inn,  and  when  I  told  him  what  pleasure  it  would  give 
me  to  see  any  of  his  friends  in  England,  he  said  that  there  was  a  friend  of 
his,  a  nobleman,  who  was  thinking  of  sending  his  son  to  be  educated  in 
England.  The  father  and  mother,  he  said,  were  pious  and  excellent  peo- 
ple, and  devoted  to  the  improvement  of  their  tenantry  in  every  respect,  and 
they  wished  their  son  to  be  brought  up  in  the  same  views.  And  Niebuhr 
said  that  if  this  young  man  came  to  England,  he  should  be  very  happy  to 
avail  himself  of  my  offer.  And  he  expressed  his  hope  that  you  and  I  might 
be  at  Bonn  again  some  day  together,  and  that  he  might  receive  us  under 
his  own  roof.  He  expressed  repeatedly  his  great  affection  for  England, 
saying  that  his  father  had  accustomed  him  from  a  boy  to  read  the  English 
newspapers,  in  order  that  he  might  early  learn  the  opinions  and  feelings  of 
Englishmen.     On    the   whole,    I    was   most   delighted  with  my  visit,  and 

thought  it  altogether  a  great  contrast  to  the  fever  and  excitement  of . 

The  moral  superiority  of  the  German  character  in  this  instance  was  very 
striking;  at  the  same  time  I  owe  it  to  the  French  to  say,  that  now  that  I 
have  learnt  the  whole  story  of  the  late  revolution,  I  am  quite  satisfied  of  the 
justice  of  their  cause,  and  delighted  with  the  heroic  and  admirable  manner 
in  which  they  have  conducted  themselves.  How  different  from  even  the 
beginning  of  the  first  revolution,  and  how  satisfactory  to  find  that  in  this 
instance  the  lesson  of  experience  seems  not  to  have  been  thrown  away. 

August,  1830. 

7.  The  aspect  of  Germany  is  certainly  far  more  pleasing  than  that  of 
France,  and  the  people  more  comfortable.  I  cannot  tell  whether  it  really  is 
so,  but  I  cannot  but  wonder  at  Guizot  placing  France  at  the  head  of  Euro- 
pean civilization :  he  means  because  it  is  superior  to  Germany  in  social  civ- 
ilization, and  to  England  in  producing  more  advanced  and  enlarged  individ- 
ual minds.  Many  Englishmen  will  sneer  at  this  notion,  but  I  think  it  is  to  a 
certain  degree  well  founded,  and  that  our  intellectual  eminence  in  modern 
times  by  no  means  keeps  pace  with  our  advances  in  all  the  comforts  and 
effectiveness  of  society.  And  I  have  no  doubt  that  our  miserable  system 
of  education  has  a  great  deal  to  do  with  it.  I  maintain  that  our  historians 
ought  to  be  twice  as  good  as  those  of  any  other  nation,  because  our  social 

civilization  is  perfect Then,  again,  our  habits  of  active 

life  give  our  minds  an  enormous  advantage,  if  we  would  work ;  but  we  do 
not,  and  therefore  the  history  ol*  our  own  country  is  at  this  day  a  thing  to  be 
done,  as  well  as  the  histories  of  Greece  and  Rome.  Foreigners  say  that 
our  insular  situation  cramps  and  narrows  our  minds;  and  this  is  not  mere 
nonsense  either.  If  we  were  not  physically  a  very  active  people,  our  dis- 
union from  the  Continent  would  make  us  pretty  nearly  as  bad  as  the  Chi- 
nese. As  it  is,  we  are  so  distinct  in  habits  and  in  feelings,  owing  originally 
in  great  measure  to  our  insular  situation,  that  I  remember  observing  in  1815. 
that  the  English  stood  alone  amidst  all  the  nations  assembled  at  Paris,  and 
that  even  our  fellow  subjects,  the  Hanoverians,  could  understand  and  sym- 
pathize with  the  French  better  than  with  us.  Now  it  is  very  true  that  by 
our  distinctness  we  have  gained  very  much, — more  than  foreigners  can  un- 


APPENDIX  C.  461 

derstand.  A  thorough  English  gentleman, — Christian,  manly,  and  enlight- 
ened,— is  more,  I  believe,  than  Guizot  or  Sismondi  could  comprehend ;  it  is 
a  finer  specimen  of  human  nature  than  any  other  country,  I  believe,  could 
furnish.  Still  it  is  not  a  perfect  specimen  by  a  great  deal ;  and  therefore  it 
will  not  do  to  contemplate  ourselves  only,  or,  contenting  ourselves  with  saying 
that  we  are  better  than  others,  scorn  to  amend  our  institutions  by  comparing 
them  with  those  of  other  nations.  Our  travellers  and  our  exquisites  imitate 
the  outside  of  foreign  customs  without  discrimination,  just  as  in  the  absurd 
fashion  of  not  eating  fish  with  a  knife,  borrowed  from  the  French,  who  do  it 
because  they  have  no  knives  fit  to  use.  But  monkeyish  imitation  will  do  no 
good  ;  what  is  wanted  is  a  deep  knowledge  and  sympathy  with  the  Euro- 
pean character  and  institutions,  and  then  there  would  be  a  hope  that  we 
might  each  impart  to  the  other  that  in  which  we  are  superior. 


VI.      TOUR    IN    SCOTLAND. 

July,  1831. 

1.  I  was  at  Church  (at  Greenock)  twice  on  Sunday,  once  at  the  Presby- 
terian Church  and  once  at  the  Episcopal  Chapel.  My  impressions,  received 
five  years  ago,  were  again  renewed  and  strengthened  as  to  the  merits  of  the 
Presbyterian  Church  and  our  own.  The  singing  is  to  me  delightful, — I  do 
not  mean  the  music,  but  the  heartiness  with  which  all  the  congregation  join 
in  it.  And  I  exceedingly  like  the  local  and  particular  prayers  and  addresses 
which  the  freedom  of  their  services  allows  the  minister  to  use.  On  the  other 
hand  the  people  should  be  protected  from  the  tediousness  or  dulness  of  their 
minister ;  and  that  is  admirably  effected  by  a  Liturgy,  and  especially  by 
such  a  Liturgy  as  ours.  As  to  the  repetitions  in  our  Service,  they  arise  chiefly 
from  Laud's  folly  in  joining  two  Services  into  one  ;  but  the  repetition  of  the 
Lord's  Prayer  I  can  hardly  think  objectionable  ;  not  that  I  would  contend 
for  it,  but  neither  would  I  complain  of  it.  Some  freedom  in  the  Service 
the  minister  certainly  should  have  ;  some  power  of  insertion  to  suit  the 
particular  time  and  place ;  some  power  of  explaining  on  the  spot  whatever 
is  read  from  the  Scriptures,  which  may  require  explanation,  or  at  any  rate 
of  stating  the  context.  It  does  seem  to  me  that  the  forms  required  in 
our  Liturgy  and  Service  are  so  obvious,  and  so  little  affect  the  system  itself, 
that  their  long  omission  is  doubly  blamable.  But  more  remains  behind,  and 
of  far  greater  difficulty: — to  make  the  Church  at  once  popular  and  dignified, 
— to  give  the  people  their  just  share  in  its  government,  without  introducing 
a  democratical  spirit, — to  give  the  Clergy  a  thorough  sympathy  with  their 
flocks,  without  altogether  lowering  their  rank  and  tone.  When  Wesley 
said  to  his  ministers,  that  they  had  no  more  to  do  with  being  gentlemen 
than  with  being  dancing-masters,  to  jluv  6qO-w<;  (Tth,  to  6t  mtayTiv.  In 
Christ's  communication  with  His  Apostles  there  is  always  a  marked  dignity 
and  delicacy,  a  total  absence  of  all  that  coarseness  and  vulgarity  into  which 
Wesley's  doctrine  would  infallibly  lead  us.  Yet  even  in  Christ,  the  Lord 
and  Master  of  His  Disciples,  there  is  a  sympathy,  which  is  a  very  different 
thing  from  condescension,  a  spirit  of  unaffected  kindness  and,  I  had  almost 
said,  of  sociability,  which  the  spirit  of  gentlemanliness  has  doubtless  greatly 
dulled  in  the  Church  of  England.  "I  have  called  you  friends,"  is  a  text 
which  applies  to  the  Christian  minister  in  his  dealings  with  his  brethren  and 
equals,  in  an  infinitely  stronger  degree  than  it  could  do  to  Him,  who  was 
our  Lord  and  Master,  and  whose  calling  us  brethren  was  not  of  nature,  but 
out  of  the  condescension  of  His  infinite  love.  And  he  who  shall  thus  far 
keep  and  thus  far  get  rid  of  the  spirit  of  gentlemanliness,  would  go  near  to 
make  the  Church  of  England  all  but  perfect,  no  less  in  jts  popularity  than 
in  its  real  deserving  of  popularity,  y.al  itegi  fi'tv  tovtojv  {l^o&w  enl  xooouto, 
artifii  fo  tnl  tbv  droj  Xoyov. 


462  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

July,  1831. 

2.  Again  (at  Glasgow)  the  Scotch  minister's  sermon  struck  me  as  ad- 
dressed more  ad  clerum  than  ad  populum  :  and  again  more  than  ever  I  felt 
the  superiority  of  our  Service.  I  cannot  say  how  doubly  welcome  and  im- 
pressive I  thought  the  Lord's  Prayer,  when  the  minister  (to  my  surprise  by 
the  way)  used  it  before  the  sermon.  Nothing,  it  seems  to  me,  can  be  worse 
than  the  introductory  prayers  of  the  Scotch  Service,  to  judge  from  what  I  have 
hitherto  heard :  the  intercessory  prayer  after  the  sermon  is  far  simpler,  and 
there  the  discretion  given  to  the  minister  is  often  happily  used.  But  altogether, 
taking  their  Service  as  it  is,  and  ours  as  it  is,  I  would  far  rather  have  our  own  ; 
how  much  more,  therefore,  with  the  slight  improvements  which  we  so  easily 
might  introduce— if  only But  even  to  the  eleventh  hour  we  will  not  re- 
form, and  therefore  we  shall  be  not,  I  fear,  reformed,  but  rudely  mangled  or 
overthrown  by  men  as  ignorant  in  their  correction  of  abuses  as  some  of  us 
are  in  their  maintenance  of  them.  Periodical  visitations  of  extreme  sever- 
ity have  visited  the  Church  and  the  world  at  different  times,  but  to  no  hu- 
man being  is  it  given  to  anticipate  which  will  be  the  final  one  of  all.  Only 
the  lesson  in  all  of  them  is  the  same.  "  If  the  righteous  scarcely  be  saved, 
where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner  appear '?"  And  in  each  of  these 
successive  "  comings  "  of  our  Lord,  how  little  is  the  faith  which  He  has 
found  even  among  His  professed  followers  !  May  he  increase  this  faith  in 
me,  and  those  who  are  dearerst  to  me,  ere  it  be  too  late  for  ever  1 


VII.      TOUR    IN    FRANCE. 

Dover,  August  11,  1837. 

1.  Twenty  and  twenty-two  years  ago  I  was  backwards  and  forwards  at 
his  place,  being  then  a  young  man  with  no  wife  or  children,  but  with  a 
mother  whose  house  was  my  home,  with  a  brother,  aunt,  and  sisters.  Ten, 
eight,  and  seven  years  ago,  I  used  to  be  also  passing  often  through  here  ;  I 
had  then  lost  my  dear  brother,  and  latterly  my  dearest  mother,  and  I  had  a 
wife  and  children ;  I  had  also  a  sister  living  here  with  her  husband  and 
children.  Now,  after  another  period  of  seven  years,  I  am  here  once  more, 
with  no  mother  or  aunt,  with  no  remains  left  of  my  early  home ;  my  sister 
who  did  live  here  has  lost  her  husband,  and  now  lives  at  Rugby ;  but  I  have 
not  only  my  dearest  wife  with  me,  but — a  more  advanced  stage  of  life — three 
dear  children  are  with  us,  and  their  pens  are  all  busy  with  their  journals, 
like  their  mother's  and  mine.  So  Dover  marks  very  strikingly  the  several 
periods  of  my  life,  and  shows  me  how  large  a  portion  of  my  space  here  I 
nave  already  gone  through. 

Then  for  the  world  at  large.  When  I  first  came  here,  it  was  so  soon 
after  Napoleon's  downfall,  that  I  remember  hearing  from  one  of  the  passen- 
gers in  the  packet  the  first  tidings  of  Labedoyere's  execution.  At  my  second 
and  third  visits,  the  British  army  still  occupied  the  north  of  France.  My 
second  period  of  coming  here,  from  1825  to  1830,  marked  the  last  period  of 
the  old  Bourbon  reign  in  France,  and  the  olcl  Tory  reign  in  England.  When 
I  first  landed  here,  it  was  in  the  brief  interval  between  the  French  and  B«l- 
gian  Revolutions ;  it  was  just  after  the  triumphant  election  of  1830  in  Eng- 
land, which  overthrew  the  ministry  of  the  Duke,  of  Wellington,  and  led  to  the 
Reform  Bill.  And  now  we  seem  to  be  witnessing  the  revival  of  Toryioin  in 
England,  perhaps  of  the  old  Bourbon  principles  in  part  in  France.  The 
tide  is  turned,  and  will  advance  no  higher  till  the  next  flood ;  let  us  only 
hope  that  its  ebb  will  not  be  violent ;  and  in  the  meanwhile  our  neighbours 
have  got  rid  of  the  white  flag,  and  we  have  got  rid  of  the  rotten  boroughs  of 
Schedule  A.  This  is  a  clear  gain ;  it  is  a  question  whether  the  positive 
good  which  either  of  us  have  gained,  is  equal  to  the  positive  evil  which  we 
have  destroyed ;  but  still  in  the  course  of  this  world,  Seeva  the  destroyer  is 


APPENDIX  C.  463 

ever  needed,  and  in  our  imperfect  state,  the  very  deliverance  from  evil  is  a 
gratification  and  a  good. 

On  Saturday  last  we  were  at  our  delicious  Westmoreland  home,  at  that 
dear  Fox  How,  which  I  love  beyond  all  other  spots  of  ground  in  the  world, 
and  expatiating  on  the  summit  of  our  familiar  Fairfield.  There  on  a  cloud- 
less sky  we  were  beholding  the  noble  outline  of  all  our  favourite  mountains ; 
the  Old  Man,  Wetherlam,  Bow  Fell,  Sea  Fell,  Great  Gable,  the  Langdale 
Pikes,  the  Pillar,  Grassmoor,  Helvellyn,  Place  Fell,  High  Street,  Hill  Bell ; 
there  we  saw  Ulleswater  and  Coniston.  and  our  own  Winandermere ;  and 
there  too  we  looked  over  a  wide  expanse  of  sea  of  the  channel  which  di- 
vides England  from  Ireland.  On  Tuesday  last  we  were  at  our  dear  Rugby 
home ;  seeing  the  long  line  of  our  battlements  and  our  well-known  towers 
backed  by  the  huge  elms  of  the  school-field,  which  far  overtopped  them ; 
and  looking  on  the  deep  shade  which  those  same  elms,  with  their  advanced 
guard  of  smaller  trees  and  shrubs,  were  throwing  over  the  turf  of  our  quiet 
garden.  And  now,  on  Friday  morning,  we  are  at  an  inn  at  Dover,  looking 
out  on  the  castle  and  white  cliffs  which  are  so  linked  with  a  thousand  recol- 
lections ;  beholding  the  sea,  which  is  the  highway  from  all  the  life  of  Eng- 
land to  all  the  life  of  Europe,  and  beyond  there  stretches  out  the  dim  line  of 
darker  shadow  which  we  know  to  be  the  very  land  of  France. 

And  besides,  in  this  last  week  I  have  been  at  an  Election ;  one  of  those 
great  occasions  of  good  or  evil  which  are  so  largely  ministered  to  English- 
men ;  an  opportunity  for  so  much  energy,  for  so  much  rising  beyond  the 
mere  selfishness  of  domestic  interests,  and  the  narrowness  of  mere  individual 
or  local  pursuits  ;  but  an  opportunity  also  for  every  base  and  bad  passion ;  for 
corruption,  for  fear,  for  tyranny,  for  malignity.  Such  is  an  election,  and 
such  is  all  human  life ;  and  those  who  rail  against  these  double-handed  ap- 
pointments of  God,  because  they  have  an  evil  handle  as  well  as  a  good,  may 
desire  the  life  of  the  Seven  Sleepers,  for  then  only  can  opportunities  of  evil  be 
taken  from  us,  when  we  lose  also  all  opportunity  of  doing  or  of  becoming  good. 
However,  even  as  an  occasion  of  evil,  there  is  no  doubt  that  our  elections 
are  like  inoculating  for  a  disorder,  and  so  mitigating;  the  party  spirit  and 
the  feuds  which  now  spend  themselves  in  bloodless  contests,  would,  if  these 
were  away,  find  a  far  more  deadly  vent;  they  solve  that  great  problem  how 
to  excite  a  safe  and  regulated  political  activity. 

We  also  in  the  course  of  the  week  have  been  travelling  on  the  great  rail- 
way from  Manchester  to  Birmingham.  The  distance  is  ninety-five  miles, 
which  we  accomplished  in  five  hours.  Nothing  can  be  more  delightful,  as 
well  as  more  convenient.  It  was  very  beautiful  too,  to  be  taken,  as  it  were, 
into  the  deepest  retirement  of  the  country,  surprising  lone  farm-houses  and 
outlying  copses  with  the  rapid  darting  by  of  &  hundred  passengers,  yet  leav- 
ing their  quiet  unbroken ;  for  no  houses  have  as  yet  gathered  on  the  line  of 
the  railway,  and  no  miscellaneous  passers  at  all  times  of  the  day  and  night 
serve  to  keep  it  ever  in  public.  Only  at  intervals,  four  or  five  times  a  day, 
there  rushes  by  the  long  train  of  carriages,  and  then  all  is  as  quiet  as  before. 

We  also  passed  through  London,  with  which  I  was  once  so  familiar ;  and 
which  now  I  almost  gaze  at  with  the  wonder  of  a  stranger.  That  enormous 
city,  grand  beyond  all  other  earthly  grandeur,  sublime  with  the  sublimity  of 
the  sea  or  of  mountains,  is  yet  a  place  that  I  should  be  most  sorry  to  call  my 
home.  In  fact  its  greatness  repels  the  notion  of  home  ;  it  may  be  a  palace, 
but  it  cannot  be.  a  home.  How  different  from  the  mingled  greatness  and 
sweetness  of  our  mountain  valleys  ;  and  yet  he  who  were  strong  in  body  and 
mind  ought  to  desire  rather,  if  he  must  do  one,  to  spend  all  his  life  in  London, 
than  all  his  life  in  Westmoreland.  For  not  yet  can  energy  and  rest  be  united 
in  one,  and  this  is  not  our  time  and  place  for  rest,  but  for  energy. 

Cbartres,  August,  1837. 

2 Chartres  was  a  very  fine  termination  of  our  tour.     We 

stopped  at  the  Hotel  du  Grand  Monarque,  on  an  open  space  just  at  the  out- 


464  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

side  of  the  town,  and  from  thence  immediately  made  our  way  to  the  Cathe- 
dral. The  high  tower,  so  celebrated  all  over  France,  is  indeed  remarkably 
beautiful ;  but  the  whole  church  far  surpassed  my  expectations.  The  por- 
tailsof  both  transepts  are  rich  in  figures  as  large  as  life,  like  the  great  portail 
at  Rheims  5  the  rose  windows  over  them  are  very  rich,  and  the  windows  all 
over  the  church  are  most  rich  in  painted  glass.  The  size  is  great,  a  most 
essential  element,  I  think,  in  the  merits  of  a  cathedral,  and  all  the  back  of 
the  choir  was  adorned  with  groups  of  figures  in  very  high  relief,  which  had 
an  extremely  fine  effect.  These  are  all  the  proper  and  perpetual  beauties  of 
Chartres  Cathedral;  but  we  happened  to  see  it  on  the  Festival  of  the 
Assumption,  when  the  whole  church  was  full  of  people  in  every  part,  when 
the  service  was  going  on  in  the  choir,  and  the  whole  building  was  ringing 
with  the  peals  of  the  organ,  and  with  the  voices  of  the  numerous  congrega- 
tion. Unchristian  as  was  the  service,  so  that  one  could  have  no  sympathy 
with  it  in  itself,  yet  it  was  delightful  to  contrast  the  crowded  state  of  the 
huge  building,— nave,  transepts  and  aisles,  all  swarming  with  people,  and 
the  sharing  of  all  in  the  service, — with  the  nakendess  of  our  own  cathedrals, 
where  all,  except  the  choir,  is  now  merely  a  monument  of  architecture. 
There  is  no  more  provoking  confusion  to  my  mind,  than  that  which  is  often 
made  between  the  magnificence  and  beauty  of  the  Romish  Church  and  its 
superstitions.  No  one  abhors  more  than  I  do  the  essence  of  Popery,  i.  e. 
Priestcraft;  or  the  setting  up  a  quantity  of  human  mediators,  interpreters, 
between  God  and  man.  But  this  is  retained  by  those  false  Protestants  who 
call  themselves  High  Churchmen  ;  while  they  have  sacrificed  of  Popery  only 
its  better  and  more  popular  parts ;  its  beauty  and  its  impressiveness.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  Puritans  and  Evangelicals,  whilst  they  disclaim  Popery, 
undervalue  the  authority  and  power  of  the  Church,  not  of  the  Clergy,  and 
have  a  bibliolatry,  especially  towards  the  Old  Testament,  quite  as  foolish 
and  as  mischievous  as  the  superstition  of  the  Catholics.  The  open  churches, 
the  varied  services,  the  beautiful  solemnities,  the  processions,  the  Calvaries, 
the  crucifixes,  the  appeals  to  the  eye  and  ear  through  which  the  heart  is 
reached  most  effectually,  have  no  natural  connexion  with  superstition.  Peo- 
ple forget  that  Christian  worship  is  in  its  essence  spiritual, — that  is,  it  de- 
pends for  its  efficacy  on  no  circumstances  of  time  or  place  or  form, — but  that 
Christianity  itself  has  given  us  the  best  helps  towards  making  our  worship 
spiritual  to  us,  that  is,  sincere  and  lively,  by  the  visible  images  and  signs 
which  it  has  given  us  of  God  and  of  heavenly  things ;  namely,  the  Person 
of  the  Man  Christ  Jesus,  and  the  Sacraments. 

To  forbear,  therefore,  from  all  use  of  the  Humanity  of  Christ,  as  an  aid 
to  our  approaching  in  heart  to  the  Invisible  Father,  is  surely  to  forfeit  one 
of  the  merciful  purposes  of  the  Incarnation,  and  to  fall  a  little  into  that  one 
great  extreme  of  error,  the  notion  that  man  can  either  in  his  understanding, 
or  in  his  heart,  approach  to  the  Eternal  and  Invisible  God,  without  the  aid 
of  a  f.ualtr\<;  or  "  interpres  ;"  (the  English  word,  "  Mediator,"  has  become  so 
limited  in  its  sense,  that  it  does  not  reach  to  the  whole  extent  of  the  case,) 
we  want  not  an  interpreter  only,  but  a  medium  of  communication, — some 
middle  point,  in  which  the  intelligible  may  unite  with  the  perfections  of  the 
unintelligible,  and  so  may  prepare  us  hereafter  to  understand  Him  who  is 
now  unintelligible. 

I  think  that  this  is  important,  for  many  reasons,  both  as  regards  Popery 
and  our  Pseudo-Popery,  and  Evangelicalism  and  Unitarianism.  The  er- 
rors of  all  four  seem  to  flow  out  of  a  confusion  as  to  the  great  truth  of  our 
need  of  a  fitalrrjq,  and  of  the  various  ways  in  which  Christ  is  our  One  (.tiahijc;, 
and  that  with  infinite  perfectness. 


APPENDIX  C.  465 

VIII.      TOUR    IN    THE    SOUTH    OF    FRANCE. 

Paris,  July  14,  1839. 

1 But  really,  when  we  went  out  on  these  leads,  and  looked 

down  on  the  whole  mass  of  the  trees  of  the  Tuilleries'  garden,  forming  a 
luxurious  green  bed  below  us,  and  saw  over  them  the  gilded  dome  of  the  In- 
valids, and  the  mass  of  the  Tuilleries,  and  the  rows  of  orange  trees,  and  the 
people  sitting  at  their  ease  amongst  them,  and  the  line  of  the  street  not  van- 
ishing, as  in  London,  in  a  thick  cloud  of  smoke  or  fog,  but  with  the  white 
houses  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  distinct  on  the  sky, — and  that  sky  just 
in  the  western  line  of  the  street,  one  blaze  of  gold  from  the  setting  sun, — 
not  a  weak  watery  sun,  but  one  so  mighty  that  his  setting  was  like  the 
death  of  a  Caesar  or  a  Napoleon, — of  one  mighty  for  good  and  for  evil, — of 
one  to  be  worshipped  by  ignorant  men,  either  as  God  or  Demon, — one 
hardly  knew  whether  to  rejoice  or  to  grieve  at  his  departure  ;  when  we  saw 
all  this,  we  could  not  but  feel  that  Paris  is  full  of  the  most  poetical  beauty. 

Cosne.July,  16,  1839. 

2 The  wide  landscape  under  this  bright  sky  looks  more 

than  joyous,  and  the  sun  in  his  unobstructed  course  is  truly  giant-like. 
Here  one  can  understand  how  men  came  to  worship  the  sun,  and  to  depict 
him  with  all  images  of  power  and  of  beauty, — armed  with  his  resistless  ar- 
rows, yet  the  source  of  life  and  light.  And  yet  feeling,  as  none  can  feel 
more  strongly,  the  evils  of  the  state  of  England,  one  cannot  but  see  also, 
that  the  English  are  a  greater  people  than  these, — more  like,  that  is,  one  of 
the  chosen  people  of  history,  who  are  appointed  to  do  a  great  work  for  man- 
kind. We  are  over  bustling,  but  there  is  less  activity  here,  without  more 
repose.  But.  however,  b(  it  is  not  expedient,  doubtless;"  and  have  not  we 
failed  to  improve  the  wonderful  talents  which  have  been  given  to  us  ? 

Aries,  July  20,  1839. 

3.  We  have  just  been  walking  round  this  town,  after  having  first  been 
down  to  the  Rhone,  and  had  a  bathe  in  him,  which,  as  we  had  seen  so 
much  of  him,  was,  I  thought,  only  a  proper  compliment  to  him.  But  I 
ought  to  go  back  in  order,  dearest  Mary,  to  the  Pope's  palace  at  Avignon, 
only  this  heat  makes  me  lazy.  There  was  an  old  porter,  who  opened  to  us 
the  first  gate,  and  led  us  into  an  enormous  court  full  of  soldiers,  for  it  is  now 
used  as  a  barrack  ;  then  he  opened  a  door  into  a  long  gallery, — perhaps  100 
feet  long, — through  which  we  were  to  pass The  rooms  be- 
yond were  scenes  not  to  be  forgotten ; — prisons  where  unhappy  men  had  en- 
graved their  names  on  the  stones,  and  mottoes,  mostly  from  Scripture,  ex- 
pressing their  patience  and  their  hope.  One  man  had  carved  simply  our 
Lord's  name,  as  if  it  gave  him  a  comfort  to  write  it ;  there  was  I.  H.  S., 
and  nothing  more.  Some  of  these  dens  had  been  the  torture-rooms,  and 
one  was  so  contrived  in  the  roof  and  walls  as  to  deaden  all  sound  ;  while  in 
another  there  was  a  huge  stone  trough,  in  which  the  question,  "  a  l'eau 
bouillante  "  used  to  be  put ;  and  in  yet  another  the  roof  was  still  blackened 
by  the  fires  in  which  the  victims  had  been  burnt  alive.  One  of  these  same 
rooms,  long  since  disused  by  the  Inquisition,  had  been  chosen  as  the  prison 
and  scene  of  the  murder  of  the  victims  of  the  aristocratical  party  in  the  mas- 
sacre in  1790 ;  and  in  it  there  was  a  sort  of  trap-door,  through  which  the 
bodies  were  throwed  down  into  the  lowest  room  of  the  tower,  which  was 
then  used  as  an  ice-house.  And  the  walls  of  the  intermediate  room  were 
visibly  streaked  with  the  blood  of  those  who  were  so  thrown  down  after  they 
had  been  massacred.1 

July,  1839. 

4 We  are  now  between  the  Lion  d'Or  and  Salon,  on  the 

famous  Plaine  de  Crau,  or  Plain  of  Stones,  one  vast  mass  of  pebbles,  which 

1  See  Letter  in  p.  343. 


466  LIPE  0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

cover  the  country  for  several  leagues,  and  reduce  it  to  utter  barrenness.  .  . 
We  are  now  in  the  midst  of  this  plain  of  stones,  utter  desolation  on  every 
side,  the  magnificent  line  of  the  Alpines,  as  they  are  called,  or  Provence 
mountains,  stretching  on  our  left ;  and  on  our  right,  close  along  by  the  road- 
side, runs,  full  and  fresh  and  lively,  a  stream  of  water,  one  of  the  channels 
of  irrigation  brought  from  the  Durance,  and  truly  giving  life  to  the  thirsty 
land.  "  He  maketh  the  wilderness  a  running  water,"  might  be  said  truly  of 
this  life  in  the  midst  of  death.  Here  are  two  houses  just  built  by  the  road- 
side, and  opposite  to  them  a  little  patch  of  ground  just  verdured,  surrounded 
by  a  little  belt  of  cypresses  and  willows ;  now,  again,  all  is  desolate, — 
all  but  the  living  stream  on  our  right,  and  some  sheep  wandering  on  the 
left  amidst  the  stones,  and  living  one  sees  not  how.  The  sun  has  just  set 
over  this  vast  plain,  just  as  at  sea.  Reeds  and  yellow  thistles  fringe  the 
stream. 

Point  above  St.  Cergues,  August  2,  1839. 

5 I  am  come  out  alone,  my  dearest,  to  this  spot, — the 

point  almost  of  our  own  view,  to  see  the  morning  sun  on  Monte  Blanc  and 
on  the  Lake,  and  to  look  with  more,  I  trust,  than  outward  eyes  on  this  glori- 
ous scene.  It  is  overpowering,  like  all  other  intense  beauty,  if  you  dwell 
upon  it ;  but  I  contrast  it  immediately  with  our  Rugby  horizon,  and  our  life 
of  duty  there,  and  our  cloudy  sky  of  England — clouded  socially,  alas !  far 
more  darkly  than  physically.  But  beautiful  as  this  is,  and  peaceful,  may  I 
never  breathe  a  wish  to  retire  hither,  even  with  you  and  our  darlings,  if  it 
were  possible ;  but  may  I  be  strengthened  to  labour,  and  to  do  and  to  suffer 
in  our  own  beloved  country  and  Church,  and  to  give  my  life,  if  so  called 
upon,  for  Christ's  cause  and  for  them.  And  if— as  I  trust  it  will — this  ram- 
bling, and  this  beauty  of  nature  in  foreign  lands  shall  have  strengthened  me 
for  my  work  at  home,  then  we  may  both  rejoice  that  we  have  had  this  little 
parting.  And  now  I  turn  away  from  the  Alps,  and  from  the  south,  and 
may  God  speed  us  to  one  another,  and  bless  us  and  ours,  in  Him  and  in  His 
Son,  now  and  for  ever. 

August  4,  1839. 

6 It  is  curious  to  observe   how  nations  run  a  similar  course 

with  each  other.  We  are  now  on  a  new  road,  made  by  some  private  spec- 
ulators, with  a  toll  on  it,  and  they  laud  it  much  as  a  great  improvement. 
And  such  it  is  really ;  yet  it  is  quite  like  "  Bit  and  Bit,"1  at  Whitemoss,  for 
it  goes  over  a  lower  part  of  the  hill,  instead  of  keeping  the  valley  ;  so  that 
forty  years  hence  we  may  have  "  Radical  Reform  "  in  the  shape  of  a  road 
quite  in  the  valley ;  and  then  come  railroads  by  steam,  and  then  perhaps 
railroads  by  air,  or  some  other  farther  improvement.  And  "  quis  finis  ?"  That 
we  cannot  tell ;  and  we  have  great  need  I  know,  to  strengthen  our  moral 
legs,  seeing  that  our  physical  legs  are  getting  such  great  furtherances  to 
their  speed.  But  still,  do  not  check  either,2  but  advance  both ;  for,  though 
one  may  advance  without  the  other,  yet  one  cannot  be  checked  without  the 
other,  because  to  check  the  development  of  any  of  our  powers,  dWofutg,  is 
in  itself  sinful. 

1  Playful  names  which  he  gave  to  two  roads  between  Rydal  and  Grasmere. 

2  The  delight  with  which,  from  such  associations  as  these,  he  regarded  even  the 
unsightliness  of  the  great  Birmingham  Railway,  when  it  was  brought  to  Rugby,  was 
very  characteristic  of  him, — "  I  rejoice  to  see  it,"  he  said,  as  he  stood  on  one  of  its 
arches,  and  watched  the  train  pass  on  through  the  distant  hedgerows, — "  I  rejoice  to  see 
it,  and  think  that  feudality  is  gone  for  ever.  It  is  so  great  a  blessing  to  think  that  any 
one  evil  is  really  extinct.  Bunyan  thought  that  the  giant  Pope  was  disabled  for  ever, — 
and  how  greatly  was  he  mistaken." 


APPENDIX  C.  467 

Calais,  August  7,  1839. 

7 Of  the  mere  face   of  the   country,  I  have  spoken 

enough  already,  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  English  travellers  do  it  great  in- 
justice. I  see  a  great  deal  of  travelling,  particularly  in  the  south,  a  great 
number  of  diligences,  and  a  very  active  steam  navigation  on  the  Rhone, 
both  up  and  down.  The  new  suspension  bridges  thrown  over  the  Rhone,  at 
almost  every  town  from  Lyons  to  Avignon,  are  a  certain  evidence  of  a  stir 
amongst  the  people;  and  there  is  also  a  railway  from  Lyons  to  St.  Etienne, 
and  from  Roanne  to  Lyons.  I  see  crosses  and  crucifixes, — some  new, — 
setup  by  the  roadside,  and  treated  with  no  disrespect;  but  I  think  I  see, 
also,  a  remarkable  distinctness  here  between  the  nation  and  the  Church,  as 
if  it  by  no  means  followed  that  a  Frenchman  was  to  be  a  Christian.  I  saw 
this  morning  '•  Ecole  Chretienne,"  stuck  up  in  Aire,  which  implied  much  too 
clearly  that  there  might,  be  "  Ecoles  non  Chretiennes."  And  this  I  have  seen 
in  French  literature ;  religious  men  are  spoken  of  as  acting  according  to 
the  principles  of  Christianity,  just  as  if  those  principles  were  something  pe- 
culiar, and  by  no  means  acknowledged  by  Frenchmen  in  general.  I  see 
again,  a  state  of  property  which  does  appear  to  me  an  incalculable  bless- 
ing. I  see  a  fusion  of  ranks  which  may  be  an  equal  blessing. — I  do  not 
know  whether  it  is.  Well-dressed  men  appear  talking  familiarly  with  per- 
sons of  what  we  should  call  decidedly  the  lower  classes.1  Now,  if  this 
shows  that  the  poorer  man  is  raised  in  mind  to  the  level  of  the  richer,  it  is 
a  blessing  of  the  highest  order ;  if  it  shows  that  the  richer  man  has  fallen 
to  the  level  of  the  poorer,  then  I  am  not  so  sure  that  it  is  a  blessing.  But 
I  have  no  right  to  say  that  it  is  so,  because  I  do  not  know  it ;  only  we  see 
few  here  whose  looks  and  manners  are  what  we  should  call  those  of  a 
thorough  gentleman. 


IX.      TOUR   TO    ROME    AND    NAPLES    THROUGH    FRANCE    AND    ITALY,    1840. 

[The  passages  marked  as  quotations  have  been  inserted  from  the  mem- 
oranda of  conversations  kept  by  a  former  pupil,  who  accompanied  him  and 
his  wife  on  the  greater  part  of  this  tour.  Most  of  these  being,  like  the 
Journal,  connected  more  or  less  with  the  localities  of  the  journey,  would  not, 
it  was  thought,  be  out  of  place  here.  It  may  be  as  well  to  add,  that  the 
extracts  in  No.  6  form  one  continuous  portion,  which  was  selected  to  give  a 
better  notion  of  the  Journals  in  their  original  state  than  could  be  collected 
from  mere  fragments.] 

Orleans,  June  22,  1840. 

1.  Here  we  are  at  last  in  a  place  which  I  have  so  long  wanted  to  see.  It 
stands  quite  on  a  flat  on  the  north  or  right  bank  of  the  Loire.  One  great 
street  under  two  names,  divided  by  the  Square  or  Place  of  Martray,  from 
north  to  south, — from  the  barrier  on  the  Paris  road  to  the  river.  We  have 
now  been  out  to  see  the  town,  or  at  least  the  cathedral,  and  the  bridge  over 
the  Loire.  The  former  is  by  far  the  finest  Gothic  building  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  which  I  ever  saw ;  the  end  of  the  choir  is  truly  magnificent, 
and  so  is  the  exterior,  and  its  size  is  great.  We  then  drove  to  the  bridge, 
a  vast  fabric  over  this  wide  river, — the  river  disfigured  by  sandbanks,  as  at 
Cosne,  but  still  always  fine,  and  many  vessels  lying  under  the  quays  for  the 
river  navigation. 

1  "  If  there  is  any  one  truth  after  the  highest  for  which  I  would  die  at  the  stake," 
was  one  of  his  short  emphatic  sayings,  "  it  would  be  Democracy  without  Jacobinism." 
Believing  that  the  natural  progress  of  society  was  towards  greater  equality,  he  had  also 
great  confidence  in  the  natural  instincts  implanted  in  man — reverence  for  authority,  and 
resistance  to  change — as  checks  on  what  he  considered  a  Jacobinical  disregard  of  exist- 
ing ties  or  ancient  institutions.  "  What  an  instructive  work,"  he  said,  "  might  be  written 
on  God's  safeguards  against  Democracy,  as  distinguished  from  man's  safeguards  against 
it." 


468  LIFE   op   DR-  ARNOLD. 

"  The  siege  of  Orleans  is  one  of  the  turning  points  in  the  history  of  na- 
tions. Had  the  English  dominion  in  France  been  established,  no  man  can 
tell  what  might  have  been  the  consequence  to  England,  which  would  pro- 
bably have  become  an  appendage  to  France.  So  little  does  the  prosperity 
of  a  people  depend  upon  success  in  war,  that  two  of  the  greatest  defeats  we 
ever  had  have  been  two  of  our  greatest  blessings,  Orleans  and  Bannock- 
burn.  It  is  curious,  too,  that  in  Edward  II. 's  reign,  the  victory  over  the  Irish 
proved  our  curse,  as  our  defeat  by  the  Scots  turned  out  a  blessing.  Had 
the  Irish  remained  independent,  they  might  afterwards  have  been  united  to 
us,  as  Scotland  was;  and  had  Scotland  been  reduced  to  subjection,  it  would 
have  been  another  curse  to  us  like  Ireland."1 

June  24,  1840. 

2 Now  for  Bourges  a  little  more.  In  the  crypt  is  a  Calvary, 

and  figures  as  large  as  life  representing  the  burying  of  our  Lord.  The 
woman  who  showed  us  the  crypt,  had  her  little  girl  with  her ;  and  she  lifted 
up  the  child,  about  three  years  old,  to  kiss  the  feet  of  our  Lord.  Is  this 
idolatry  ?  Nay,  verily,  it  may  be  so,  but  it  need  not  be,  and  assuredly  is  in 
itself  right  and  natural.  I  confess  I  rather  envied  the  child.  It  is  idolatry 
to  talk  about  Holy  Church  and  Holy  Fathers — bowing  down  to  fallible  and 
sinful  men  ; — not  to  bend  knee,  lip  and  heart,  to  every  thought2  and  every 
ima^e  of  Him  our  manifested  God. 

o 

June  Q5. 

3.  "  It  is  absurd  to  extol  one  age  at  the  expense  of  another,  since  each 
has  its  good  3  and  its  bad.  There  was  greater  genius  in  ancient  times,  but 
art  and  science  come  late.  But  in  one  respect  it  is  to  be  feared  we  have  de- 
generated— what  Tacitus  so  beautifully  expresses,  after  telling  a  story  of  a 
man  who,  in  the  civil  war  in  Vespasian's  time,  had  killed  his  own  brother, 
and  received  a  reward  for  it ;  and  then  relates  that  the  same  thing  happened 
before  in  the  civil  war  of  Sylla  and  Marius,  and  the  man  when  he  found  it 
out  killed  himself  from  remorse ;  and  then  he  adds,  '  tanto  major  apud  anti- 
quos  ut  virtutibus  gloria,  ita  Jlagitiis  poenitenlia  erat.'  The  deep  remorse 
for  crime  is  less  in  advanced  civilization.  There  is  more  of  sympathy  with 
suffering  of  all  kinds,  but  less  abhorrence  of  what  is  admitted  to  be 
crime." 

Genoa,  July  4,  1840. 

4.  We  are  now  farther  from  England  than  at  any  time  in  our  former  tour, 

dearest ,  but  our  faces  are  still  set  onwards,  and  I  believe  that  the  more 

I  dislike  Italy,  or  rather  the  Italians,  so  the  more  eagerly  do  I  desire  to  see 
those  parts  of  it  which  remind  me  only  of  past  times,  and  allow  me  to  forget 

1  "  Bannockburn,"  he  used  to  say,  "  ought  to  be  celebrated  by  Englishmen  as  a 
national  festival,  and  Athunree  lamented  as  a  national  judgment." 

2  See  this  more  fully  developed  in  Essay  on  Interpretation  of  Scripture,  Serm.  vol.  ii , 
and  note  to  Serm.  II.  in  vol.  iii. 

3  He  used  frequently  to  dwell  on  this  essentially  mixed  character  of  all  human  things  ; 
as,  for  example,  in  his  principle  of  the  application  of  Prophecy  to  human  events  or  persons  : 
so,  too,  his  characteristic  dislike  of  Milton's  representation  of  Satan.  "  By  giving  him  a 
human  likeness,  and  representing  him  as  a  bad  man,  you  necessarily  get  some  images  of 
what  is  good  as  well  as  of  what  is  bad  ;  for  no  living  man  is  entirely  evil.  Even  ban- 
ditti have  some  generous  qualities ;  whereas  the  representation  of  the  Devil  should  be 
purely  and  entirely  evil,  without  a  linge  of  good,  as  that  of  God  should  be  purely  and 
entirely  good  without  a  tinge  of  evil  ;  and  you  can  no  more  get  the  one  than  the  other 
from  any  thing  human.  With  the  heathen  it  was  different  ;  their  gods  were  themselves 
made  up  of  good  and  of  evil,  and  so  might  well  be  mixed  up  with  human  associations. 
The  hoofs  and  the  horns,  and  the  tail  were  all  useful  in  this  way,  as  giving  you  an 
image  of  something  altogether  disgusting.  And  so  Mephistophiles  in  Faust,  and  the 
other  contemptible  and  hateful  character  of  the  Little  Master  in  Sintram,  are  far  more 
true  than  the  "  Paradise  Lost." 


APPENDIX  C.  469 

the  present.  Certainly  I  do  greatly  prefer  France  to  Italy,  Frenchmen  to 
Italians ;  for  a  lying  people,  which  these  emphatically  are,  stink  in  one's 
moral  nose  all  the  day  long.  Good  and  sensible  men,  no  doubt,  there  are 
here  in  abundance ;  but  no  nation  presents  so  bad  a  side  to  a  traveller  as 
this.  For, — whilst  we  do  not  see  its  domestic  life  and  its  private  piety  and 
charity, — the  infinite  vileness  of  its  public  officers,  the  pettiness  of  the  Gov- 
ernments, the  gross  ignorance'  and  the  utter  falsehood  of  those  who  must 
come  in  our  way,  are  a  continual  annoyance.  When  you  see  a  soldier  here, 
you  feel  no  confidence  that  he  can  fight ;  when  you  see  a  so-called  man  of  let- 
ters, you  are  not  sure  that  he  has  more  knowledge  than  a  baby ;  when  you 
see  a  priest,  he  may  be  an  idolater  or  an  unbeliever  ;  when  you  see  a  judge 
or  a  public  functionary,  justice  and  integrity  may  be  utter  .strangers  to  his 
vocabulary.  It  is  this  which  makes  a  nation  vile  when  profession,  whether 
Godward  or  manward,  is  no  security  for  performance.  Now  in  England  we 
know  that  every  soldier  will  fight,  and  every  public  functionary  will  be  hon- 
est. In  France  and  in  Prussia  we  know  the  same  ;  and  with  us,  though  many 
of  our  clergy  may  be  idolaters,  yet  we  feel  sure  that  none  is  an  unbeliever. 

Pisa,  July  5,  1840. 

5 But  O  the  solemn  and  characteristic  beauty  of  that 

cathedral,  with  its  simple,  semicircular  arches  of  the  twelfth  century,  its 
double  aisles,  and  its  splendour  of  marbles  and  decoration  of  a  later  date, 
especially  on  the  ceiling.  Then  we  went  to  the  Baptistry,  and  lastly  to  the 
Campo  Santo, — a  most  perfect  cloister,  the  windows  looking  towards  the 
burying-ground  within,  being  of  the  most  delicate  work.  But  that  burying- 
ground  itself  is  the  most  striking  thing  of  all;  it  is  the  earth  of  the  Holy 
City ;  for  when  the  Pisan  Crusaders  were  in  Palestine,  they  thought  no 
spoil  which  they  could  bring  home  was  so  precious  as  so  many  feet  in  depth 
of  the  holy  soil,  as  a  burying-place  for  them  and  their  children.  This  was 
not  like  Anson  watching  the  Pacific  from  Tinian  to  Acapulco,  in  order  to 
catch  the  Spanish  treasure  ship. 

Now,  however,  this  noble  burying-ground  is  disused,  and  only  a  few 
favoured  persons  are  laid  there  by  the  especial  permission  of  the  Grand 
Duke.  The  wild  vine  grows  freely  out  of  the  ground,  and  clothes  it  better, 
to  my  judgment,  than  four  cypresses,  two  at  each  end,  which  have  been 
lately  planted.  The  Campo  Santo  is  now  desecrated  by  being  made  a  mu- 
seum. The  famous  Cenotaphium  Pisanum  is  here,  a  noble  monument,  but 
Julia's  sons  and  Augustus's  grandsons  have  no  business  on  the  spot  which 
the  Pisans  filled  with  the  holy  earth  of  Jerusalem.  The  town  itself  is  very 
striking :  the  large,  flat  pavement  filling  up  the  whole  street  as  at  Florence, 
and  the  atom  on  each  side,  or  else  good  and  clean  houses,  varied  with  some 
of  illustrious  antiquity.  And  after  all  we  ,were  not  searched  at  the  gate  of 
Pisa:  it  seems  it  has  been  lately  forbidden  by  the  government — a  great  hu- 
manity.    And  now,  dearest ,  good  night,  and  God  bless  you  and  all 

our  darlings,  and  wish  us  a  prosperous  journey  of  three  days  to  the  great 
city  of  cities ;  for  Naples,  I  confess,  does  in  comparison  appear  to  me  to  be 
viler  than  vile,  a  city  without  one  noble  association  in  ancient  days  or 
modern. 

July  6,  1840. 

6.  And  now  we  are  on  the  great  road  from  Florence  to  Rome.  Rome  once 
again,  but  now  how  much  dearer,  and  to  me  more  interesting  than  when  I 
saw  it  last,  and  in  how  much  dearer  company.  Yet  how  sad  will  it  be  not 
to  find  Bunsen  there,  and  to  feel  that  Niebuhr  is  gone.  I  note  here  in  every 
group  of  people  whom  I  meet  many  with  light,  very  light  eyes.  Is  this  the 
German  blood  of  the  middle  age  conquests  and  wars,  or  are  the  mass  of  the 
present  Italians  descended  from  the  Roman  slaves — Ligurians,  Kelts,  Ger- 
mans, and  from  all  other  nations  1  However,  of  the  fact  of  the  many  light 
eyes  in  Tuscany  I  am  sure.     The  country  is  beautiful,  and  we  are  going  up 


470  LIPE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

amidst  oak  woods  chiefly.  The  hedges  here  are  brilliant ;  the  Sweet  Wil- 
liam pinks  of  the  deepest  colour ;  the  broom,  the  clematis,  and  the  gum- 
cist.us  Salvianus,  that  beautiful  flower  which  I  have  never  seen  wild  since 
1827.  Here  is  the  beginning  of  the  mountain  scenery  of  Central  Italy,  only 
a  very  faint  specimen  of  it ;  but  yet  bearing  its  character — the  narrow  val- 
ley, the  road  in  a  terrace  above  it,  the  village  of  Staggia  with  its  old  walls 
and  castle  tower,  the  vines,  figs  and  olives  over  all  the  country,  and  the  lux- 
uriant covering  of  all  the  cliffs  and  roadside  banks,  the  wild  fig,  and  wild 
vine.  Arrived  at  Castiglioncello  1.45.  Left  it  1.53.  Ascending  gradually 
towards  Sienna,  which  is  at  the  top  of  the  whole  country,  dividing  the 
streams  which  feed  the  Arno  from  those  that  feed  the  Ombrone.  The  road 
here  is  a  defile  through  oak  woods,  very  beautiful ;  and  after  having  got  up 
through  the  wood,  we  are  in  a  high  plain,  but  with  higher  hills  around  us, 
and  a  great  deal  of  wood.  Here  the  country  looks  parched,  for  the  soil  is 
shallow. 

Arrived  at  the  gates  of  Sienna  3.16.  I  hope  that  I  shall  not  have  much 
time  to  write;  nor  have  I,  for  the  carriage  is  at  the  door.  Left  Sienna  4.50. 
We  did  not  stop  long  as  is  evident,  but  we  dined  for  two  pauls  each,  about 
one  franc,  and  we  saw  the  cathedral,  a  thing  very  proper  to  do  and  more- 
over the  cathedral  is  fine  and  very  rich,  and  has  some  pictures ;  amongst 
the  rest,  a  set  of  pictures  of  the  events  of  the  life  of  my  old  friend  ./Eneas 
Sylvius,  designed,  it  is  said,  by  Raphaelle  in  his  early  youth.  There  were 
also  some  fine  illuminations  of  some  ancient  music  books,  and  some  very 
well  executed  Mosaics.  Yet  I  should  be  a  false  man  if  I  professed  to  feel 
much  pleasure  in  such  things.  What  I  did  rejoice  in  was  the  view  which 
we  had,  far  and  wide,  from  the  heights  of  Sienna,  a  boundless  range  of 
Apennines.  And  coming  out  of  Sienna,  we  have  just  had  a  shower  of  Ci- 
cada drop  from  the  trees  upon  the  carriage,  who  hopped  oft' when  anything 
threatened  them  behind,  with  an  agility  truly  marvellous.  And  now  we  are 
descending  from  our  height,  amidst  a  vast  extent  of  cornfields  just  cleared, 
and  the  view  is  not  unlike  that  from  Pain  a  Bouchain,  only  some  of  the 
Apennines  before  us  are  too  fine  for  the  hills  about  Roanne.  Let  me  notice 
now  several  things  to  the  credit  of  the  Italians  hereabouts.  First  of  all,  the 
excessive,  goodness  ot  the  Albergo  del'  Ussaro  at  Pisa,  where  the  master, 
who  speaks  English,  changed  my  French  money  into  Tuscan  and  Roman, 
a  convenience  to  avoid  the  endless  disputes  about  the  exact  value  of  the 
foreign  coinage.  Next,  at  Castiglioncello,  the  stage  before  Sienna,  there  is 
"  Terzo  Cavallo,"  and  justly,  seeing  that  the  whole  stage  is  up  hill.  I  said 
to  the  ostler,  "  You  have  a  right,  I  believe,  here,  to  a  third  horse  ;"  to  which 
he  said  "  Yes."  But  presently  he  added,  "  You  are  only  two  persons,  and 
I  shall  send  you  with  two ;"  and  this  he  did  without  any  compromise  of  pay- 
ing for  two  horses  and  a  half:  but  we  had  two,  and  we  paid  only  for  two. 
And  finally,  the  Sienna  dinner,  at  four  pauls,  at  the  Aquila  Nera,  was 
worthy  of  all  commendation. 

As  I  have  occasion  to  complain  often  of  the  Italians,  it  is  pleasant  to  be 
able  to  make  these  exceptions.  Sienna  stands  like  Langres,  and  as  we  have 
been  descending,  two  little  streams  have  risen  in  the  hill  sides  right  and  left, 
and  now  they  meet  and  form  a  green  valley,  into  which  we  are  just  de- 
scended, and  find  again  the  hedgerows,  the  houses,  and  the  vines.  Arrived 
at  Montaroni,  5.57.  Left  at  6.4.  And  still,  I  believe,  we  are  going  to  have 
another  stage  of  descent  to  Buon  Convento.  Alas  !  an  adventure  has  sadly 
delayed  us,  for  though  the  stage  be  mostly  descent  or  level  ground,  yet  there 
was  one  sharp  little  hill  soon  after  we  left  Montaroni,  in  the  middle  of  which 
our  horses  absolutely  would  not  go  on,  wherefore  the  carriage  would  go 
back,  and  soon  got  fast  in  the  ditch.  Mary  got  out  very  safely,  and  we  got 
the  carriage  out  of  the  ditch,  but  it  was  turned  round  in  the  doing  it,  and  the 
road  was  so  narrow  that  we  could  not  turn  it  right  again  for  a  long  time. 
Meanwhile,  a  passing  traveller  kindly  carried  a  message  back  to  the  post  for 
a  Terzo,  and  after  a  while  Terzo  and  a  boy  came  to  our  aid.  and  brought  us 


APPENDIX  C.  471 

up  the  hill  valiantly  ;  and  Terzo  is  now  trotting  on,  a  bright  example  to  his 
companions. 

July  7.     Left  Buon  Convento  5.16.     Again  a  lovely  morning,  dearest 

,  and  certainly  if  a  man  does  not  glorify  God  in  this  country,  yet,  as  we 

have  just  been  reading,1  "the  very  stones  do  indeed  cry  out."     The  country 
is  not  easy  to  describe,  for  the  framework  of  the  Apennines  here  is  very 
complicated,  the  ribs  of  the  main  chain   being  very  twisted,  and  throwing 
out  other  smaller  ribs  which  are  no  less  so,  so  that  the  valleys  are  infinitely 
winding;  but,  generally,  we  were  on  th,e  Ombrone  at  Buon  Convento,  and 
at  Torrinieri  shall  be  on  one  of  his  feeders,  which  run  so  as  to  form  a  very 
acute  angle  with  him   at  his  confluence.     Between  the  two  the  ground  is 
thrown  about  in  swells  and  falls  indescribable.       The  country  is  generally 
open  corn  land,  just  cleared,  but  varied  with  patches  of  copse,  of  heath,  and 
of  vines  and  other  trees  in  the  valleys,  and  the  farm-houses  perched  about  in 
the  summit  of  the  hills  with  their  odd  little  corn  stacks,  some  scattered  all 
over  the  fields,  and  others  making  a  belt  round  the  houses.     II  Cavallo  In- 
glese  at  Buon  Convento  was  a  decent  place  as  to  beds,  but  roguish,  as  the 
small  places  always  are,  in  their  charges.     The  Terzo  did  well,  and  brought 
us  well  to  Buon  Convento  after  all.     At  this  moment,  Monte  Alcino.  on  a 
high  mountain  on  the  right,  is  looking  splendidly  under  the  morning  sun, 
with  its  three  churches,  its  castle,  and  the  mass  of  trees  beneath  it.     Arrived 
at  Torrinieri,  6.15.     Left  it  6.21,  with  four  horses,  but  only  three  are  to  be 
paid  for,  which  is  all  quite  right;  the  fourth  is  for  their  own  pleasure.     We 
have  just  crossed  the  Orcia,  and  these  great  ascents,  which  require   the 
Terzo,  are  but  shoulders  dividing  one  feeder  of  the  Ombrone  from  another, 
the    Orcia  from  the  Tressa.     We  have  had  one  enormous  ascent,  and  a 
descent  by  zig  and  zag  to  a  little  feeder,  and  now  we  are  up  again  to  go 
down  to  another.     On  this  intermediate  height,  rising  out  of  a  forest  of  olives, 
with  its  old  wall,  its  Church  with  a  fine  Norman  doorway,  and  its  castle 
tower,  stands  S.  Q,uirico,  on  no  river,  my  Mary,  but  a  place  beginning  with 
a  Q,.,  when  we  "  play  at  Geographical."     We  are  just  under  its  walls,  with 
a  mass  of  ilex  sloping  down  from  the  foot  of  the  walls  to  the  road ;  the 
machicolations  of  the  walls  are  very  striking.     We  are  descending  towards 
the  Tressa,  a  vast  view  before  us,  bounded  by  the  mountains  of  Radicofani. 
The  hills  which  we  are  descending  are  thickly  wooded  on  our  right,  with 
most  picturesque  towns  on  their  summits,  while  the  deep  furrows  of  this  blue 
marl,  though  rock  would  doubtless  be  finer,  are  yet  very  striking  in  all  the 
gorges  and  combes.     Arrived  at  La  Poderina,  that  most  striking  view,  7.45. 
Left  it  7.53.     We  have  crossed  the  Tressa,  a  rocky  stream  in  a  deep  dell 
between  noble  mountains,  on  each  side  crowned  with  the  most  picturesque 
towns  and  castles.     The  postillion  calls  the  river  the  Orcia,  and  I  think  he 
is  right ;  the  town  is  Rocca  d'Orcia ;  it  is-  the  scene  I  had  noticed  in  my 
former  journal,  and  indeed  it  is  not  easy  to  be  forgotten ;  but  I  had  fancied 
the  spot  had  been  at  Buon  Convento.     This  stage  is  the  only  one  as  yet  that 
could  be  called  at  all  dull ;  much  of  it  is  through  a  low  plain  without  trees 
or  vines,  and  therefore  it  is  now  bare  ;  in  this  plain,  however,  there  stands 
one  of  the  finest  of  oaks  by  the  road  side,  a  lonely  and  goodly  tree,  which 
has  the  plain  to  itself.     They  are  also  doing  a  very  good  work,  in  making  a 
line  of  road,  quite  in  the  plain,  to  avoid  the  many  ups  and  downs  of  the 
present  road,  in  crossing   the  valleys  of  the  small  streams  which  run  down 
into  the  main  valley.     But  although  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  the 
road  is  dull,  yet  how  glorious  are  the  mountains  all  around!     Arrived  at 
Riccorsi,  9.10.     Left  it  9.18.     I  was  speaking  of  the  mountains,  and  I  am 
quite  sure  that  a  scene  so  picturesque  as  that  which  we  have  just  above 
Riccorsi,  in  this  stage,  which  people  who  read  and  sleep  through  the  coun- 
try call  dull,  can  very  rarely  be  rivalled  in  England.     The  mountains  are 

1  i.  e.  in  the  daily  lessons  of  Scripture,  which,  with  the  Te  Deum,  they  used  to  read 
every  morning  on  starting. 


472  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

very  high,  and  their  sides  and  banks  and  furrowing  combes,  nobly  spread 
out  before  you,  covered  mostly  with  oak  forests,  but  the  forest  toward  the 
plain  thinning  off  into  single  trees  till  it  gives  place  to  the  olives  and  vines; 
and  near  the  summit  there  is  a  great  scar  or  cliff,  on  which,  or  to  which,  sit 
or  stick  as  they  can  the  houses  of  Campiglia,  with  its  picturesque  towers  as 
usual.  And  now  we  are  really  going  up  to  the  head  of  the  country,  to  the 
fantastic  rocks  of  Radicofani,  which  turn  the  waters  to  the  Ombrone  and 
Tiber,  and  are  visible  from  the  Ciminian  hills.  Again  the  road  itself  is  in 
the  bare  hill  side,  with  masses  of  rock  here  and  there.  But  across  the  tor- 
rent, the  mountain  sides  are  closed  *more  or  less  with  trees,  in  some  places 
thickly,  and  before  us  the  hill  side  is  yellow  with  the  still  standing  corn. 
The  torrent  beds,  however,  are  here  for  the  most  part  quite  dry.  Those 
creatures  which  dropped  on  our  carriage  yesterday,  are  here  again  in  great 
numbers  ;  they  call  them  Cavalletii  or  Grigli;  they  are  a  species  of  Cicada, 
but  not  those  which  croak  on  the  trees,  and  which,  I  believe,  are  never  seen 
on  the  ground.  We  have  just  crowned  the  summit,  and  see  before  us  the 
country  towards  Rome,  and  the  streams  going  to  the  Tiber.  The  valley  of 
the  Paglia  for  miles  lies  before  us.  Alas !  to  think  of  that  unhappy  papal 
government,  and  of  the  degraded  people  subject  to  it.  Arrived  at  Radico- 
fani, 10.45. 

There  is  a  good  inn  here,  so  we  have  stopped  to  get  something  to  eat, 
and  to  give  Mary  some  rest,  which  she  greatly  needs ;  and  from  here  our 
.vay  is  in  a  manner  all  down  hill.  Glorious  indeed  is  the  view  all  around 
us,  and  there  is  also  a  nice  garden  under  the  house,  where  I  see  an  oleander 
in  bloom,  although  our  height  above  the  Mediterranean  must  be  very  great, 
and  up  here  the  corn  is  not  ripe.  The  air  is  pure  and  cool  enough,  as  you 
may  suppose,  but  there  is  no  chill  in  it,  and  the  flies  are  taking  liberties  with 
my  face,  which  are  disagreeable.  It  is  very  strange  to  see  so  nice  looking 
an  inn  at  this  wild  place,  but  the  movement  of  the  world  does  wonders,  and 
it  improves  even  the  mountain  of  Radicofani.  I  have  exposed  myself  to  the 
attacks  of  those  who  cannot  bear  to  hear  of  the  movement  of  the  nineteenth 
century  improving  any  thing ;  however,  I  was  thinking  only  of  physical  im- 
provement in  roads  and  inns,  which  is  a  matter  not  to  be  disputed.  But  in 
truth  the  improvement  does  go  deeper  than  this,  and  though  the  work  is  not 
all  of  God,  (and  did  even  Christianity  itself  except  the  intermeddling  hand 
of  Antichrist?)  yet  in  itself  it  is  of  God,  and  its  fruits  are  accordingly  good 
in  the  main,  though  mixed  with  evil  always,  and  though  the  evil  sometimes 
be  predominant ;  sometimes  it  may  be  alone  to  be  found ;  just  as  in  this  long 
descent  which  I  see  before  me  to  Ponte  Centino  there  are  portions  of  abso- 
lutely steep  up  hill.  It  is  a  lying  spirit  undoubtedly  that  says  "  look  back- 
wards." 

Viterbo,  July  8th,  1840.— On  May  9th,  1827,  I  entered  Rome  last,  dearest 
;  and  it  gives  me  a  thrill  to  look  out  from  my  window  on  the  very  Ci- 
minian hills,  and  to  know  that  one  stage  will  bring  us  to  the  top  of  them. 
But  the  Caffe  bids  me  stop.  Left  Viterbo  5.30.  A  clever  piccolo  has  aided 
our  carriage  well  by  leading  Terzo  round  some  very  sharp  turnings  in  the 
narrow  streets.  And  now  we  are  out  amidst  gardens  and  olives,  with  the 
Ciminian  hills  all  green  with  their  copsewood~right  before  us.  We  are  now 
amidst  the  copsewood  ;  many  single  chestnuts  and  oaks  are  still  standing ; 
the  tufts  of  gum-cistus  Salvianus  by  the  road  side  mingled  with  the  broom 
are  most  beautiful.  Long  white  lines  of  cloud  lie  in  the  plains,  so  that  the 
Sabine  mountains  jseem  to  rise  exactly  from  the  sea.  And  now  a  wooded 
point  rises  above  us  of  a  very  fine  shape,  a  sort  of  spur  from  the  main  ridge 
like  Swirl  Edge  from  Helvellyn.  Here  the  oaks  and  chestnuts  are  fine. 
Thick  wood  on  both  sides  of  the  road.  Again  we  descend  gradually  to- 
wards Monterossi,  Soracte,  and  the  mountains  behind  it  finer  than  can  be 
told.  We  may  now  say  that  we  are  within  what  was  the  Roman  frontier 
in  the  middle  of  the  fourth  century,  u.c,  for  we  have  just  crossed  the  little 
stream  which  flows  by  both  Sutrium  and  Nepete,  and  they  were  long  the 


APPENDIX  C.  473 

frontier  colonies  towards  Etruria.  Here  we  join  the  Perugia  and  Ancona 
road,  and  after  the  junction  our  ways  seem  much  improved.  And  now  we 
are  ascending  a  long  hill  into  Monterossi,  which  seems  to  stand  on  a  sort  of 
shoulder  running  down  from  the  hills  of  the  Lake  Sabatinus  towards  the 
Campagna.  I  suppose  that  this  country  must  have  been  the  ikqioixk;  of 
Veii.  The  twenty-sixth  milestone  from  Rome  stands  just  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill  going  up  into  Monterossi.  Here  they  are  threshing  their  corn  vigor- 
ously out  in  the  sun  ;  I  should  have  thought  that  it  must  be  dry  enough 
any  where.  Arrived  at  Monterossi  9.30.  at  the  twenty-fifth  milestone,  9.44. 
Here  begins  the  Campagna,  and  I  am  glad  to  find  that  my  description  of  it 
in  Vol.  I.  is  quite  correct.  Here  are  the  long  slopes  and  the  sluggish  streams, 
such  as  I  have  described  them,  and  the  mountain  wall  almost  grander  than 
my  recollection  of  it.  And,  as  our  common  broom  was  tufting  all  the 
slopes  and  banks  when  I  was  here  last  in  April  and  May,  so  now,  in  July 
we  have  our  garden  broom  no  less  beautiful.  I  observe  that  since  we  have 
joined  the  Perugia  road,  every  thing  seems  in  better  style,  both  roads  and 
posting,  because  that  is  the  great  road  to  Bologna  and  Ancona,  and  the  Si- 
enna road  leads  within  the  Roman  States  to  no  place  of  consequence.  Here 
is  one  of  the  lonely  Osterie  of  the  Campagna,  but  now  smartened  up  into 
the  Hotel  des  Sept  Veines,  Sette  Vene,  strange  to  behold.  Here  we  found 
our  Neapolitan  friend,  who,  not  liking  his  horses,  had  sent  them  back  to 
Monterossi,  and  was  waiting  for  others.  The  postillions  would  have  changed 
them  for  ours,  deeming  our  necks,  I  suppose,  of  no  consequence;  but  our 
Neapolitan  friend  most  kindly  advised  me  not  to  allow  them  to  change  ;  a 
piece  of  disinterested,  or  rather  self-denying  consideration,  for  which  I  felt 
much  obliged  to  him.  Strange  it  is  to  look  at  these  upland  slopes,  so 
fresh,  so  airy,  so  open,  and  to  conceive  that  malaria  can  be  here.  They 
have  been  planting  trees  here  by  the  road  side,  acacias  and  elms  and  shu- 
macks,  a  nice  thing  to  do,  and  perhaps  also  really  useful,  as  trees  might 
possibly  lessen  the  malaria.  We  see  the  men  who  come  to  reap  the  crops 
in  the  Campagna  sleeping  under  the  shade  by  the  road  side  ;  we  are  going 
up  the  outer  rim  of  the  Bacano  crater ;  the  road  is  a  "  via  cava,"  and  the 
beauty  of  the  brooms  and  wild  figs  is  exquisite.  Now  we  are  in  the  crater, 
quite  round  with  a  level  bottom  about  one  mile  and  a  half  in  diameter.  Ar- 
rived at  Baccano,  10.35.  Left  it,  10.45.  And  now  we  are  going  up  the 
inner  rim  of  the  crater,  and  it  is  an  odd  place  to  look  back  on.  I  put  up 
Catstabber,  take  my  pen,  and  look  with  all  my  eyes,  for  here  is  the  top  oi 
the  rim,  and  Rome  is  before  us,  though  as  yet  I  see  it  not.  We  have  just 
seen  it,  11.5.  S.  Peter's  within  the  horizon  line,  Mons  Albanus,  the  portal 
into  the  Hernican  country,  Prseneste,  Tibur,  and  the  valley  of  the  Anio  to- 
wards Sublaqueum.  Of  earthly  sights  rolxnv  ai'rn — Athens  and  Jerusalem 
are  the  other  two — the  three  people  of  God's  election,  two  for  things  tempo- 
ral, and  one  for  things  eternal.  Yet  even  in  the  things  eternal  they  were 
allowed  to  minister.  Greek  cultivation  and  Roman  polity  prepared  men  for 
Christianity,  as  Mahometanism'  can  bear  witness,  for  the  East,  when  it 
abandoned  Greece  and  Rome,  could  only  reproduce  Judaism.  Mahometan- 
ism, six  hundred  years  after  Christ,  justifies  the  wisdom  of  God  in  Judaism; 
proving  that  the  eastern  man  could  bear  nothing  more  perfect.  Here  I  see 
perfectly. the  shoulder  of  land  which  joins  the  Alban  Hills  to  the  mountains 
by  Prseneste,  and  through  the  gap  over  them  I  see  the  mountains  of  the 
Volscians.  A  long  ridge  lies  before  us,  between  us  and  La  Storta,  but,  «if 
-  we  turned  to  the  left  beibre  we  ascended  it,  we  could  get  down  to  the  Tiber 
without  a  hill.  And  here  I  look  upon  Veii,  (Isola  Farnese.)  and  see  dis- 
tinctly the  little  cliff  above  the  stream  which  was  made  available  for  the  old 
walls.     We  are  descending  to  the  stream  at  Osteria  del  Fosso,  which  was 

1  "The  unworthy  idea  of  Paradise"  in  the  Koran,  he  used  to  say,  "justifies  the 
ways  of  God,  in  not  revealing  a  future  state  earlier,  since  man  in  early  ages  was  not  fit 
for  it." 

31 


474  LIFE  0F  DR-  ARNOLD. 

one  of  those  that  flowed  under  the  walls  of  Veii.  And  here  at  Osteria  del 
Fosso  we  have  the  little  cliffy  banks  which  were  so  often  used  here  for  the 
fortifications  of  the  ancient  towns,  and  such  as  I  have  just  seen  in  Veii  itself. 
We  are  going  up  the  ridge  from  Osteria  del  Fosso,  and  have  just  passed  the 
11th  milestone.  These  bare  slopes  overgrown  with  thistles  and  fern  are 
very  solemn,  while  the  bright  broom  cheering  the  road  banks  might  be  an 
image  of  God's  grace  in  the  wilderness,  and  a  type  that  it  most  cheers  those 
who  keep  to  the  straight  road  of  duty.  Past  the  tenth  milestone,  and  here 
apparently  with  no  descent  to  reach  to,  is  La  Storta.  Arrived  at  La  Storta, 
12.4.  Left  it,  12.14.  Here  is  a  Camp'agna  scene,  on  the  left  a  lonely  Oste- 
ria, and  on  the  right  one  of  the  lonely  square  towers  of  this  district,  old  re- 
fuges for  men  and  cattle  in  the  middle  ages.  We  descend  gradually ;  the 
sides  of  the  slopes,  both  right  and  left,  (for  we  are  on  a  ridge.)  are  prettily 
clothed  with  copsewood.  I  have  just  seen  the  Naples  road  beyond  Rome, 
the  back  of  the  Monte  Mario,  the  towers  of  the  churches  at  the  Porta  del 
Popolo.  And  now,  just  past  the  fourth  milestone,  S.  Peter's  has  opened 
from  behind  Monte  Mario,  and  we  go  down  by  zig  and  zag  towards  the 
level  of  the  Tiber.  It  brings  us  down  into  a  pretty  green  valley  watered  by 
the  Acqua  Traversa,  where,  for  the  first  time,  we  have  a  few  vines  on  the 
slope  above.  The  Acqua  Traversa  joins  the  Tiber  above  the  Milvian 
bridge,  so  we  cross  him  and  go  up  out  of  his  little  valley  on  the  right.  And 
here  we  find  the  first  houses  which  seem  like  the  approach  to  a  city.  There 
are  the  cypresses  on  the  Monte  Mario,  and  here  is  the  Tiber  and  the  Milvian 
bridge.  We  are  crossing  the  Tiber  now,  and  now  we  are  in  the  Ager  Ro- 
manus.  Garden  walls  and  ordinary  suburb  houses  line  the  road  on  both  sides, 
but  the  Collis  Hortulorum  rises  prettily  on  the  left  with  its  little  cliffs,  its  cy- 
presses, copsewood  and  broom.  The  Porta  del  Popolo  is  in  sight,  and  then 
Passport  and  Dogana  must  be  minded,  so  here  I  slop  for  the  present,  1,20. 

Rome,  July  9.  Again  this  date,  my  dearest ,  one  of  the  most  solemn 

and  interesting  to  me  that  my  hand  can  ever  write,  and  now  even  more  in- 
teresting than  when  I  saw  it  last. 

7.  The  Pantheon  I  had  never  seen  before,  and  I  admire  it  greatly ;  its 
vastness,  and  the  opening  at  the  top  which  admitted  the  view  of  the  cloud- 
less sky,  both  struck  me  particularly.  Of  the  works  of  art  at  the  Vatican,  I 
ought  not  to  speak,  but  I  was  glad  to  find  that  I  could  understand  the  Apollo 
better  than  when  I  last  saw  it. 

S.  Stefano  Rotondo  on  the  Ca^lian,  so  called  from  its  shape,  consists  of 
two  rows  of  concentric  pillars,  and  contains  the  old  Mosaic  of  our  Lord,  of 
which  I  spoke  in  my  former  journal.  It  exhibits,  also,  in  a  series  of  pictures 
all  round  the  church,  the  martyrdoms  of  the  Christians  in  the  so-called  Per- 
secutions, with  a  general  picture  of  the  most  eminent  martyrs  since  the  tri- 
umph of  Christianity.  No  doubt  many  of  the  particular  stories  thus  painted, 
will  bear  no  critical  examination:  it  is  likely  enough,  too,  that  Gibbon  has 
truly  accused  the  general  statements  of  exaggeration.  But  this  is  a  thank- 
less labour,  such  as  Lingard  and  others  have  undertaken  with  respect  to  the 
St.  Bartholomew  massacre,  and  the  Irish  massacre  of  1642.  Divide  the 
sum  total  of  reported  martyrs  by  twenty — by  fifty  if  you  will — but  after  all 
you  have  a  number  of  persons  of  all  ages  ana  sexes  suffering  cruel  torments 
and  death  for  conscience  sake  and  for  Christ's,  and  by  their  sufferings  man- 
ifestly, with  God's  blessing,  ensuring  the  triumph  of  Christ's  Gospel. 
Neither  do  I  think  that  we  consider  the  excellence. of  this  martyr  spirit  half 
enough.  I  do  not  think  that  pleasure  is  a  sin:1  the  Stoics  of  old,  and  the 
ascetic  Christians  since,  who  have  said  so,  (see  the  answers  of  that  excellent 
man,  Pope  Gregory  the  Great,  to  Augustine's  questions,  as  given  at  length 

1  He  had,  however,  a  great  respect  for  the  later  Stoics  : — "  It  is  common  to  ridicule 
them,"  he  said  ;  "but  their  triumph  over  bodily  pain  was  one  of  the  noblest  efforts  after 
good  ever  made  by  man,  without  revelation.  He  that  said  to  pain, '  Thou  art  no  evil  to 
ine,  so  long  as  I  can  endure  thee,' — it  was  given  him  from  God." 


APPENDIX  C. 


475 


by  Bede,)  have,  in  saying  so,  overstepped  the  simplicity  and  the  wisdom  of 
the  Christian  truth.  But,  though  pleasure  is  not  a  sin,  yet  surely  the  con- 
templation of  suffering  for  Christ's  sake  is  a  thing  most  needful  for  us  in  our 
days,  from  whom  in  our  daily  life  suffering  seems  so  far  removed.  And,  as 
God's  grace  enabled  rich  and  delicate  persons,  women,  and  even  children, 
to  endure  all  extremities  of  pain  and  .reproach  in  times  past,  so  there  is  the 
same  grace  no  less  mighty  now ;  and  if  we  do  not  close  ourselves  againt  it, 
it  might  in  us  be  no  less  glorified  in  a  time  of  trial.  And  that  such  time  of 
trial  will  come,  my  children,  in  your  days,  if  not  in  mine,  I  do  believe  fully, 
both  from  the  teaching  of  man's  wisdom,  and  of  God's.  And,  therefore, 
pictures  of  martyrdoms  are,  I  think,  very  wholesome, — not  to  be  sneered  at, 
nor  yet  to  be  looked  on  as  a  mere  excitement, — but  a  sober  reminder  to  us  of 
what  Satan  can  do  to  hurt,  and  what  Christ's  grace  can  enable  the  weakest 
of  His  people  to  bear.  Neither  should  we  forget  that  those  who,  by  their 
sufferings,  were  more  than  conquerors,  not  for  themselves  only,  but  for  us, 
in  securing  to  us  the  safe  and  triumphant  existence  of  Christ's  blessed  faith 
— in  securing  to  us  the  possibility,  nay,  the  actual  enjoyment,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  Antichrist  of  the  Priesthood — of  Christ's  holy  and  glorious  exxXtjoia, 
the  congregation  and  commonwealth  of  Christ's  people. 

July  12, 1840. 

8 And  I  see  Sezza  on  its  mountain  seat ;  but  here  is 

a  more  sacred  spot,  Appii  Forum,  where  St.  Paul  met  his  friends,  when, 
having  landed  at  Puteoli,  he  went  on  by  the  Appian  road  to  Rome.  Here 
the  ancient  and  the  present  roads  are  the  same, — here,  then,  the  Apostle 
Paul,  with  Luke,  and  with  Timothy,  travelled  along,  a  prisoner,  under  a 
centurion  guard,  to  carry  his  appeal  to  Cresar.  How  much  resulted  from 
that  journey — the  manifestation  of  Christ's  name  iv  olo>  tw  TZQairwytw,  the 
four  precious  Epistles  ad  Ephesios,  ad  Philippenses,  ad  Colossenses,  ad  Phi- 
lemona ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  owing  to  his  Jong  absence,  the  growth  of 
Judaism,  that  is,  of  priestcraft,  in  the  eastern  Churches,  never,  alas  !  to  be 
wholly  put  down. 

July  13,  1840. 

9 Mary  says  that  she  never  saw  so  beautiful  a  spot  as 

Mola  di  Gaeta.  I  should  say  so  too,  in  suo  genere  ;  but  Fox  How  and  Chi- 
avenna  are  so  different,  that  I  cannot  compare  them ;  so  again  are  Rome 
from  S.  Pietroin  Montorio, — Oxford  from  the  pretty  field,  or  from  St.  John's 
Gardens, — London,  from  Westminster  Bridge,  and  Paris  from  the  Quays. 
But  Mola  is  one  of  those  spots  which  are  of  a  beauty  not  to  be  forgotten 
while  one  lives. 

"  At  Mola  is  what  is  called  Cicero's  Villa.  There  is  no  greater  folly 
than  to  attempt  to  connect  particular  spots  in  this  uncertain  way  with  great 
names;  and  no  one,  who  represents  to  his  own  mind  the  succession  of  events 
and  ages  which  have  passed,  will  attempt  to  do  it  upon  conjecture,  the 
chances  being  thousands  to  one  against  correctness.  There  can  be  no  tra- 
ditions, from  the  long  period  when  such  things  were  forgotten  and  uncared 
for ;  and  what  seems  to  be  tradition,  in  fact,  originates  in  what  antiquarians 
have  told  the  people.  People  do  not  enough  consider  the  long  periods  of 
the  Roman  empire  after  Augustus's  time, — the  century  of  the  greatest  ac- 
tivity under  Trajan,  and  the  Antonines,  when  the  Republic  and  the  Augus- 
tan age  were  considered  as  ancient  times, — then  Severus  and  his  time, — 
then  Diocletian  and  Theodosius, — when  the  Roman  laws  were  in  full 
vigour." 

Naples,  July  14, 1840. 

10.  While  we  are  waiting  for  dinner,  my  dearest ,  I  will  write  two 

or  three  lines  of  journal.    Here  we  actually  are,  looking  out  upon  what  but 


476  LIFE  op  DR-  ARNOLD. 

presents  images  which,  with  a  very  little  play  of  fancy,  might  all  be  shaped 
into  a  fearful  drama  of  Pleasure,  Sin,  and  Death.  The  Pleasure  is  every 
where, — nowhere  is  nature  more  lovely,  or  man,  as  far  as  appears,  more 
enjoying ;  the  sin  is  in  the  sty  of  Caprese,  in  the  dissoluteness  of  Baise  and 
Pompeii, — in  the  black  treachery  which  in  this  ill-omened  country  stained 
the  fame  even  of  Nelson, — in  the  unmatchable  horrors  of  the  White  Jacob- 
ins of  1799, — in  the  general  absence  of  any  recollections  of  piety,  virtue,  or 
wisdom — for  "  he  that  is  not  with  me  is  against  me."  And  the  Death  stands 
manifest  in  his  awfulness  in  Vesuvius, — in  his  loathesomeness  at  the  abomi- 
nable Campo  Santo.  Far  be  it  from  me,  or  from  my  friends,  to  live  or  to 
sojourn  long  in  such  a  place  ;  the  very  contradictory,  as  it  seems  to  me,  of 
the  Hill  Difficulty,  and  of  the  House  Beautiful,  and  of  the  Land  of  Beulah. 
But,  behold,  we  are  again  in  voiture,  going  along  the  edge  of  the  sea  in  the 
port  of  Naples,  and  going  out  to  Salerno.  Clouds  are  on  the  mountains 
which  form  the  south-east  side  of  the  bay;  but  Vesuvius  is  clear,  and  quite 
quiet. — not  a  wreath  of  smoke  ascends  from  him.  Since  I  wrote  this,  in  the 
last  five  minutes,  there  is  a  faint  curl  of  smoke  visible.  Striking  it  is  to  ob- 
serve the  thousand  white  houses  round  his  base,  and  the  green  of  copse- 
wood  which  runs  half  way  up  him,  and  up  to  the  very  summit  of  his 
neighbour,  the  Monte  Somma, — and  then  to  look  at  the  desolate  blackness  of. 
his  own  cone. 

July  15,  1840. 

11.  We  have  just  left  Pompeii,  after  having  spent  two  hours  in  walking 
over  the  ruins.  Now,  what  has  struck  me  most  in  this  extraordinary  scene, 
speaking  historically  ?  That  is,  what  knowledge  does  one  gain  from  seeing 
an  ancient  town  destroyed  in  the  first  century  of  the  Christian  era,  thus  laid 
open  before  us  ?  I  do  not  think  that  there  is  much.  I  observed  the  streets 
crossing  one  another  at  right  angles  :  I  observed  the  walls  of  the  town  just 
keeping  the  crown  of  the  hill,  and  the  suburbs  and  the  tombs  falling  away 
directly  from  the  gates :  I  observed  the  shops  in  front  of  the  houses, — the 
streets  narrow,  the  rooms  in  the  houses  very  small;  the  dining  room  in  one 
of  the  best  was  twenty  feet  by  eighteen  nearly.  The  Forum  was  large  for 
the  size  of  the  town ;  and  the  temples  and  public  buildings  occupied  a  space 
proportionably  greater  than  with  us.  I  observed  the  Impluvium,  forming  a 
small  space  in  the  midst  of  the  Atrium.  And  I  think,  farther,  that  Pompeii  is 
just  a  thing  for  pictures  to  represent  adequately  ;  I  could  understand  it  from 
Gell's  book,  but  no  book  can  give  me  the  impressions  or  the  knowledge  which  I 
gain  from  every  look  at  the  natural  landscape.  Then,  poetically,  Pompeii  is 
to  me,  as  I  always  thought  it  would  be,  no  more  than  Pompeii ;  that  is,  it  is 
a  place  utterly  unpoetical.  An  Osco-Roman  town,  with  some  touches  of 
Greek  corruption, — a  town  of  the  eighth  century  of  Rome,  marked  by  no 
single  noble  recollection,  nor  having — like  the  polygonal  walls  of  Ciolano — 
the  marks  of  a  remote  antiquity  and  a  pure  state  of  society.  There  is  only 
the  same  sort  of  interest  with  which  one  would  see  the  ruins  of  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah,  but  indeed  there  is  less.  One  is  not  authorized  to  ascribe  so  sol- 
emn a  character  to  the  destruction  of  Pompeii ;  it  is  not  a  peculiar  monument 
of  God's  judgments,  it  is  the  mummy  of  a  jnan  of  no  worth  or  dignity, — 
solemn,  no  doubt,  as  every  thing  is  which  brings  life  and  death  into  such 
close  connexion,  but  with  no  proper  and  peculiar  solemnity,  like  places  rich 
in  their  own  proper  interest,  or  sharing  in  the  general  interest  of  a  remote 
antiquity,  or  an  uncorrupted  state  of  society.  The  towns  of  the  Ciolano  are 
like  the  tomb  of  a  child, — Pompeii  is  like  that  of  Lord  Chesterfield. 

July  29,  1840. 

12.  Rieti  is  so  screened  by  the  thousand  elms  to  which  its  vines  are 
trained,  that  you  hardly  can  see  the  town  till  you  are  in  it.  It  stands  in  the 
midst  of  the  "  Rosea  Rura,"this  marvellous  plain  of  the  Velinus,  a  far  fairer 
than  the  Thessalian  Tempe.  Immediately  above  it  are  some  of  the  rocky 
•but  exquisitely  soft  hills  of  the  country, — so  soft  and  sweet  that  they  are  like 


APPENDIX  C.  477 

the  green  hills  round  Como.  or  the  delicate  screen  of  the  head  of  Derwent- 
water ;  the  Apennines  have  lost  all  their  harsher  and  keep  only  their  finer 
features — their  infinite  beauty  of  outline,  and  the  endless  enwrapping  Qf 
their  combes,  their  cliffs,  and  their  woods.  But  here  is  water  every  where 
which  gives  a  universal  freshness  to  every  thing.  Rieti,  I  see  stands  just 
at  an  opening  of  the  hills,  so  that  you  may  catch  its  towers  on  the  sky  be- 
tween them.  We  have  crossed  the  Velino  to  its  left  bank,  just  below  its 
confluence  with  the  Torrano,  the  ancient  Tereno,  as  I  believe,  up  whose 
valley  we  have  just  been  looking,  and  see  it  covered  with  corn,  s'.andino-  in 
shocks,  but  not  carried.  It  has  been  often  a  very  striking  sight  to  see°the 
little  camp  of  stacks  raised  round  a  farm-house,  and  to  see  multitudes  of  peo- 
ple assembled,  threshing  their  corn,  or  treading  it  out  with  mules'  or  horses' 
feet.  Still  the  towns  stand  nobly  on  the  mountains.  Behold  Grecio  before 
us, — two  church  towers,  and  the  round  towers  of  its  old  bastions,  and  the 
line  of  its  houses  on  the  edge  of  one  cliff,  and  with  other  cliffs  risino-  behind 
it.  The  road  has  chosen  to  go  up  a  shoulder  of  hill  on  the  left  of  the  valley 
for  no  other  visible  reason  than  to  give  travellers  a  station  like  the  Bowness 
Terrace,  from  which  they  might  have  a  general  view  over  it.  It  is  really  like 
"  the  garden  of  the  Lord,"  and  the  "  Seraph  guard  "  might  keep  their  watch 
on  the  summit  of  the  opposite  mountains,  which,  seen  under  the  morning 
sun,  are  invested  in  a  haze  of  heavenly  light,  as  if  shrouding  a  more  than 
earthly  glory.  Truly  may  one  feel  with  Von  Canitz,1  that  if  the  glory  of 
God's  perishable  works  be  so  great,  what  must  be  the  glory  of  the  imperish- 
able,— what  infinitely  more,  of  Him  who  is  the  author  of  both  !  And  if  I 
feel  thrilling  through  me  the  sense  of  this  outward  beauty — innocent  in- 
deed, yet  necessarily  unconscious, — what  is  the  sense  one  ought  to  have  of 
moral  beauty,— of  God  the  Holy  Spirit's  creation,— of  humbleness  and  truth, 
and  self-devotion  and  love  !  Much  more  beautiful,  because  made  truly  after 
God's  image,  are  the  forms  and  colours  of  kind  and  wise  and  holy  thoughts, 
and  words,  and  actions ;  more  truly  beautiful  is  one  hour  of  old  Mrs.  Price's21 
patient  waiting  for  the  Lord's  time,  and  her  cheerful  and  kind  interest  in  us 
all,  feeling  as  if  she  owed  us  any  thing, — than  this  glorious  valley  of  the 
Velinus.  For  this  will  pass  away,  and  that  will  not  pass  away:  but  that  is 
not  the  great  point; — believe  with  Aristotle  that  this  should  abide,  and  that 
should  perish;  still  there  is  in  the  moral  beauty  an  inherent  excellence 
which  the  natural  beauty  cannot  have  ;  for  the  moral  beauty  is  actually,  so 
to  speak,  God,  and  not  merely  His  work :  His  living  and  conscious  ministers 
and  servants  are — it  is  permitted  us  to  say  so — the  temples  of  which  the 
light  is  God  Himself. 

Banks  of  the  Metaurus,  July  21,  1840. 

13.  "  Livy  says,  '  the  farther  Hasdrubal' got  from  the  sea,  the  steeper 
became  the  banks  of  the  river.'  We  noticed  some  steep  banks,  but  probably 
they  were  much  higher  twenty-three  centuries  ago  ;  for  all  rivers  have  a 
tendency  to  raise  themselves,  from  accumulations  of  gravel,  &e. ;  the  wind- 
ings of  the  stream,  also,  would  be  much  more  as  Livy  describes  them,  in 
the  natural  state  of  the  river.  The  present  aspect  of  this  tract  of  country 
is  the  result  of  2,000  years  of  civilization,  and  would  be  very  different  in 
those  times.  There  would  be  much  of  natural  forest  remaining,  the 
only  cultivation  being  the  square  patches  of  the  Roman  messores,  and  these 
only  on  the  best  land.  The  whole  plain  would  look  wild,  like  a  new  and 
half-settled  country.  One  of  the  greatest  physical  changes  on  the  earth  is 
produced  by  the  extermination  of  carnivorous  animals ;  for  then  the  grami- 
nivorous become  so  numerous  as  to  eat  up  all  the  young  trees,  so  that  the 
forests  rapidly  diminish,  except  those  trees  which  they  do  not  .eat,  as  pines 
and  firs."  • 

1  See  the  story  and  poem  in  Serm.  vol.  iv.  note  B. 

2  An  old  woman  in  the  Almshouses  at  Rugby,  alluded  to  in  p.  153,431. 


478  LIFE  op   DR-  ARNOLD. 

July  23,  1840. 

14.  Between  Faenza  and  Imola,  just  now,  I  saw  a  large  building  stand- 
ing back  from  the  road,  on  the  right,  with  two  places  somewhat  like  lodges 
in  front,  on  the  road  side.  On  one  of  them  was  the  inscription  "  Labor  om- 
nia vicit,"  and  the  lines  about  iron  working,  ending  "  Argutse  lamina  serrae." 
On  the  other  were  Horace's  lines  about  drinking,  without  fear  of  "  insanae 
leges."  Therefore,  I  suppose  that  these  buildings  were  an  iron  foundry, 
and  a  public  or  cafe  ;  but  the  classical  inscriptions  seemed  to  me  character- 
istic of  that  foolery  of  classicalism  which  marks  the  Italians,  and  infects 
those  with  us  who  are  called  "  elegant  scholars."  It  appears  to  me  that  in 
Christian  Europe  the  only  book  from  which  quotations  are  always  natural 
and  good  as  inscriptions  for  all  sorts  of  places,  is  the  Bible ;  because  every 
calling  of  life  has  its  serious  side,  if  it  be  not  sinful ;  and  a  quotation  from 
the  Bible  relating  to  it,  is  taking  it  on  this  serious  side,  which  is  at  once  a 
true  side,  and  a  most  important  one.  But  iron  foundries  and  publics  have 
no  connection  with  mere  book  literature,  which,  to  the  people  concerned 
most  with  either,  is  a  thing  utterly  uncongenial.  And  inscriptions  on  such 
places  should  be  for  those  who  most  frequent  them :  a  literary  man  writing 
up  something  upon  them,  for  other  literary  men  to  read,  is  like  the  imperti- 
nence of  two  scholars  talking  to  each  other  in  Latin  at  a  coach  dinner. 

Bologna,  July  23,  1840 

15 And  now  this   is  the   last  night,  I  trust,  in  which  I 

shall  sleep  in  the  Pope's  dominions ;  for  it  is  impossible  not  to  be  sickened 
with  a  government  such  as  this,  which  discharges  no  one  function  decently. 
The  ignorance  of  the  people  is  prodigious, — how  can  it  be  otherwise?  The 
booksellers'  shops  sad  to  behold, — the  very  opposite  of  that  scribe,  instructed 
to  the  kingdom  of  God,  who  was  to  bring  out  of  his  treasures  things  new 
and  old, — these  scribes,  not  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  bring  out  of  their  trea- 
sures nothing  good,  either  new  or  old,  but  the  mere  rubbish  of  the  past  and 
the  present.  Other  governments  may  see  an  able  and  energetic  sovereign 
arise,  to  whom  God  may  give  a  long  reign,  so  that  what  he  began  in  youth 
he  may  live  to  complete  in  old  age.  But  here  every  reign  must  be  short ; 
for  every  sovereign  comes  to  the  throne  an  old  man,  and  with  no  better  ed- 
ucation than  that  of  a  priest.  Where,  then,  can  there  be  hope  under  such 
a  system,  so  contrived  as  it  should  seem  for  every  evil  end,  and  so  necessa- 
rily exclusive  of  good  ?  I  could  muse  long  and  deeply  on  the  state  of  this 
country,  but  it  is  not  my  business  ;  neither  do  I  see,  humanly  speaking,  one 
gleam  of  hope.  "  1517,"  said  Niebuhr,  "  must  precede  1688  ;"  but  where 
are  the  symptoms  of  1517  here  1  And  if  one  evil  spirit  be  cast  out,  there  are 
but  seven  others  yet  more  evil,  if  it  may  be,  ready  to  enter.  Wherefore  I  have 
no  sympathy  with  the  so-called  Liberal  party  here  any  more  than  has  Bun- 
sen.  They  are  but  types  of  the  counter  evil  of  Popery, — that  is  of  Jacobin- 
ism. The  two  are  obverse  and  reverse  of  the  coin, — the  imprinting  of  one 
type  on -the  one  side,  necessarily  brings  out  the  other  on  the  other  side  ;  and 
so  in  a  perpetual  series ;  for  [Newmanism]  leads  to  [Socialism,]  and  [So- 
cialism] leads  to  [Newmanism,] — the  eternal  oscillations  of  the  drunken 
mima, — the  varying  vices  and  vfleness  of  the  slave,  and  the  slave  broken 
loose.  "  Half  of  our  virtue,"  says  Homer,  "  is  torn  away  when  a  man  be- 
comes a  slave,"  and  the  other  half  goes  when  he  becomes  a  slave  broken 
loose.  Wherefore,  may  God  grant  us  freedom  from  all  idolatry,  whether  of 
flesh  or  of  spirit;  that  fearing  Him1  and  loving  Him,  we  may  fear  and  bow 
down  before  no  idol,  and  never  worshipping  what  ought  not  to  be  worship- 
ped, may  so  escape  the  other  evil  of  not  worshipping  what  ought  to  be  wor- 
shipped.    Good  night,  my  darlings. 

1  "  He  fears  God  thoroughly,  and  he  fears  neither  man  nor  Devil  beside,"  was  his 
characteristic  description  of  a  thoroughly  courageous  man. 


APPENDIX  C. 


479 


July  24,  1840. 

16.  As  we  are  going  through  this  miserable  state  of  Modena,  it  makes 
me  feel  most  strongly  what  it  is  to  be  ifov&tyaq  noXfmq  tioMrtjq.  What  earthly 
thing  could  induce  me  to  change  the  condition  of  an  English  private  gentle- 
man for  any  conceivable  rank  or  fortune,  or  authority  in  Modena  1  How 
much  of  my  nature  must  I  surrender  ;  how  many  faculties  must  consent  to 
abandon  their  exercise  before  the  change  could  be  other  than  intolerable  ? 
Feeling  this,  one  can  understand  the  Spartan  answer  to  the  great  King's 
satrap,  •'  Hadst  thou  known  what  freedom  was,  thou  wouldst  advise  us  to 
defend  it  not  with  swords,  but  with  axes."  Now  there  are  some,  English- 
men unhappily,  but  most  unworthy  to  be  so,  who  affect  to  talk  of  freedom, 
and  a  citizen's  rights  and  duties,  as  things  about  which  a  Christian  should 
not  care.  Like  all  their  other  doctrines,  this  comes  out  of  the  shallowness 
of  their  little  minds,  "  understanding  neither  what  they  say,  nor  whereof 
they  affirm."  True  it  is,  that  St.  Paul,  expecting  that  the  world  was 
shortly  to  end,  tells  a  man  not  to  care  even  if  he  were  in  a  state  of  personal 
slavery.  That  is  an  endurable  evil  which  will  shortly  cease,  not  in  itself 
only,  but  in  its  consequences.  But  even  for  the  few  years  during  which  he 
supposed  the  world  would  exist,  he  says,  "  if  thou  mayest  be  made  free,  use 
it  rather."  For  true  it  is  that  a  great  part  of  the  virtues  of  human  nature 
can  scarcely  be  developed  in  a  state  of  slavery,  whether  personal  or  politi- 
cal. The  passive  virtues  may  exist,  but  the  active  ones  suffer.  Truth,  too, 
suffers  especially  ;  if  a  man  may  not  declare  his  convictions  when  he  wishes 
to  do  so,  he  learns  to  conceal  them  also  for  his  own  convenience  ;  from  being 
obliged  to  play  the  hypocrite,  for  others,  he  learns  to  lie  on  his  own  account. 
And  as  the  ceasing  to  lie  is  mentioned  by  St.  Paul,  as  one  of  the  first  marks 
of  the  renewed  nature,  so  the  learning  to  lie  is  one  of  the  surest  marks  of 

nature  unrenewed True  it  is,  that  the   first   Christians 

lived  under  a  despotism,  and  yet  that  truth  and  the  active  virtues  were  admi- 
rably developed  in  them.  But  the  first  manifestation  of  Christianity  was  in 
all  respects  of  a  character  so  extraordinary  as  abundantly  to  make  up  for 
the  absence  of  more  ordinary  instruments  for  the  elevation  of  the  human 
mind.  It  is  more  to  the  purpose  to  observe,  that  immediately  after  the  Apos- 
tolic times,  the  total  absence  of  all  civil  self-government  was  one  great 
cause  which  ruined  the  government  of  the  Church  also,  and  prepared  men 
for  the  abominations  of  the  priestly  dominion ;  while  on  the  other  hand 
Guizot  has  well  shown  that  one  great  cause  of  the  superiority  of  the  Church 
to  the  heathen  world,  was  because  in  the  Church  alone  there  was  a  degree 
of  freedom  and  a  semblance  of  political  activity;  the  great  bishops,  Athana- 
sius  and  Augustine,  although  subjects  of  a  despotic  ruler  in  the  State,  were 
themselves  free  citizens  and  rulers  of  a  great  society,  in  the  management  of 
which  all  the  political  faculties  of  the  human  mind  found  sufficienf exercise. 
But  when  the  Church  is  lost  in  the  weakness  and  falsehood  of  a  Priesthood, 
it  can  no  longer  furnish  such  a  field,  and  there  is  the  greater  need  therefore 
of  political  freedom.  But  the  only  perfect  and  entirely  wholesome  freedom,  is 
where  the  Church  and  the  State  are  both  free,  and  both  one.  Then,  indeed, 
there  is  Civitas  Dei,  then  there  is  agfari}  xa{  rtXiiorctTr]  noUreia.  And  now 
this  discussion  has  brought  me  nearly  half  through  this  Duchy  of  Modena, 
for  we  must  be  more  than  half  way  from  Rubbiera  to  Reggio. 

July  28,  1840. 

17.  Left  Amsteg,  6.50.  The  beauty  of  the  lower  part  of  this  valley  is 
perfect.  The  morning  is  fine,  so  that  we  see  the  tops  of  the  mountains, 
which  rise  9000  feet  above  the  sea  directly  from  the  valley.  Huge  preci- 
pices, crowned  with  pines,  rising  out  of  pines,  and  with  pines  between  them, 
succeed  below  to  the  crags  and  glaciers.  Then  in  the  valley  itself,  green 
hows,  with  walnuts  and  pears,  and  wild  cherries,  and  the  gardens  of  these  pictu- 
resque Swiss  cottages,  scattered  about  over  them  ;  and  the  roaring  Reuss,  the 
only  inharmonious  element  where  he  is,— yet  he  himself  not  incapable  of  beino- 


480  LIFE   0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

made  harmonious,  if  taken  in  a  certain  point  of  view,  at  the  very  hottom  of 
all.  This  is  the  Canton  Uri,  one  of  the  Wald  Staaten,  or  Forest  Cantons, 
which  were  the  original  germ  of  the  Swiss  Confederacy.  But  Uri,  like 
Sparta,  has  to  answer  the  question,  what  has  mankind  gained  over  and 
above  the  ever  precious  example  of  noble  deeds,  from  Murgarten.  Sempach, 
or  Thermopylae.  What  the  world  has  gained  by  Salamis  and  Platsea,  and 
by  Zama,  is  on  the  other  hand  no  question,  any  more  than  it  ought  to  be  a 
question  what  the  world  has  gained  by  the  defeat  of  Philip's  armada,  or  by 
Trafalgar  and  Waterloo.  But  if  a  nation  only  does  great  deeds  that  it  may 
live,  and  doe?  not  show  some  worthy  object  for  which  it  has  lived,  and  Uri 
and  Switzerland  have  shown  but  too  little  of  any  such,  then  our  sympathy 
with  the  great  deeds  of  their  history  can  hardly  go  beyond  the  generation  by 
which  those  deeds  were  performed  ;  and  I  cannot  help  thinking  of  the  mer- 
cenary Swiss  of  Novara  and  Marignano,  and  of  the  oppression  exercised 
over  the  Italian  bailiwicks  and  the  Pays  de  Vaud.  and  all  the  tyrannical 
exclusiveness  of  these  little  barren  oligarchies,  as  much  as  of  the  heroic 
deeds  of  the  three  men,  Tell  and  his  comrades,  or  of  the  self-devotion  of 
my  namesake  of  Winkelried,  when  at  Sempach  he  received  into  his  breast 
"  a  sheaf  of  Austrian  spears." 

Steamer  on  the  Lake  of  Luzern,  July  29,  1840. 

18.  We  arrived  at  Fluelen  about  half-past  eight,  and  having  had  some 
food,  and  most  commendable  food  it  was,  we  are  embarked  on  the  Lake  of 
Luzern  and  have  already  passed  Briinnen,  and  are  outside  the  region  of  the 
high  Alps.  It  would  be  difficult  certainly  for  a  Swiss  to  admire  our  lakes, 
because  he  would  ask,  what  is  there  here  which  we  have  not,  and  which  we 
have  not  on  a  larger  scale.  I  cannot  deny  that  the  meadows  here  are  as 
green  as  ours,  the  valleys  richer,  the  woods  thicker,  the  cliffs  grander,  the 
mountains  by  measurement  twice  or  three  times  higher.  And  if  Switzerland 
were  my  home  and  country,  the  English  lakes  and  mountains  would  certainly 
never  tempt  me  to  travel  to  see  them,  destitute  as  they  are  of  all  historical 
interest.  In  fact,  Switzerland  is  to  Europe  what  Cumberland  and  West- 
moreland are  to  Lancashire  and  Yorkshire ;  the  general  summer  touring 
place.  But  all  country  that  is  actually  beautiful,  is  capable  of  affording  to 
those  who  live  in  it  the  highest  pleasure  of  scenery,  which  no  country,  how- 
ever beautiful,  can  do  to  those  who  merely  travel  in  it ;  and  thus  while  I  do 
not  dispute  the  higher  interest  of  Switzerland  to  a  Swiss,  (no  Englishman 
ought  to  make  another  country  his  home,  and  therefore  I  do  not  speak  of 
Encrlishmen,)  I  must  still  maintain  that  to  me  Fairfield  is  a  hundred  times 
more  beautiful  than  the  Righi,  and  Windermere  than  the  Lake  of  the  Four 
Cantons.  Not  that  I  think  this  is  overvalued  by  travellers,  it  cannot  be  so  ; 
but  most  people  undervalue  greatly  what  mountains  are  when  they  form  a 
part  of  our  daily  life,  and  combine  not  with  our  hours  of  leisure,  of  wander- 
ing, and  of  enjoyment,  but  with  those  of  home  life,  of  work  and  of  duty. 
Luzern,  July  29.  We  accomplished  the  passage  of  the  lake  in  about  three 
hours,  and  most  beautiful  it  was  all  the  way.  And  now,  as  in  1827,  I  recog- 
nize the  forms  of  our  common  English  country,  and  should  be  bidding  adieu 
to  mountains,  and  preparing  merely  for  our' Rugby  lanes  and  banks,  and 
Rucrby  work,  were  it  not  for  the  delightful  excrescence  of  a  tour  which  we 
hope  to  make  to  Fox  How,  and  three  or  four  days'  enjoyment  of  our  own 
mountains,  hallowed  by  our  English  Church,  and  hallowed  scarcely  less  by 
our  English  Law.  Alas,  the  difference  between  Church  and  Law,  and 
clergy  and  lawyers ;  but  so  in  human  things  the  concrete  ever  adds  unwor- 
thiness  to  the  abstract.  I  have  been  sure  for  many  years  that  the  subsiding 
of  a  tour,  if  I  may  so  speak,  is  quite  as  delightful  as  its  swelling ;  I  call  it  its 
subsiding,  when  one  passes  by  common  things  indifferently,  and  even  great 
tilings  with  a  fainter  interest,  because  one  is  so  strongly  thinking  of  horn  e 
and  of  the  returning  to  ordinary  relations  and  duties. 


APPENDIX  C.  481 

August  6,  1840. 

19.  Arrived  at  St.  Omer. — And  Pave  is  dead,  and  we  have  left  our  last 
French  town  except  Calais,  and  all  things  and  feelings  French  seem  going 
to  sleep  in  me, — cares  of  carriage — cares  of  passport — cares  of  inns — cares 
of  postillions  and  of  Pave,  and  there  revive  within  me  the  habitual  cares  of 
my  life,  which  for  the  last,  seven  weeks  have  slumbered.  In  many  things 
the  beginning  and  end  are  different,  in  few  more  so  than  in  a  tour.  "  Ccelum 
non  animum  mutant  qui  trans  mare  currant,"  is  in  my  case  doubly  false. 
My  mind  changes  twice,  from  my  home  self  to  my  travelling  self,  and  then 
to  my  home  self  back  again.  On  this  day  seven  weeks  I  travelled  this  very 
stage  ;  its  appearance  in  that  interval  is  no  doubt  altered ;  flowers  are  gone 
by,  and  corn  is  yellow  which  was  green ;  but  I  am  changed  even  more — 
changed  in  my  appetites  and  in  my  impressions  ;  for  then  I  craved  locomo- 
tion and  rest  from  mental  work — now  I  desire  to  remain  still  as  to  place,  and 
to  set  my  mind  to  work  again ; — then  I  looked  at  every  thing  on  the  road 
with  interest,  drinking  in  eagerly  a  sense  of  the  reality  of  foreign  objects — 
now  I  only  notice  our  advance  homeward,  and  foreign  objects  seem  to  be 
things  with  which  I  have  no  concern.  But  it  is  not  that  I  feel  any  way 
tired  of  things  and  persons  French,  only  that  I  do  so  long  for  things  and  per- 
sons English.  I  never  felt  more  keenly  the  wish  to  see  the  peace  between 
the  two  countries  perpetual ;  never  could  I  be  more  indignant  at  the  folly 
and  wickedness  which  on  both  sides  of  the  water  are  trying  to  rekindle  the 
flames  of  war.  The  one  effect  of  the  last  jvar  ought  to  be  to  excite  in  both 
nations  the  greatest  mutual  respect.  France,  with  the  aid  of  half  Europe, 
could  not  conquer  England;  England,  with  the  aid  of  all  Europe,  never 
could  have  overcome  France,  had  France  been  zealous  and  united  in  Napo- 
leon's quarrel.  When  Napoleon  saw  kings  and  princes  bowing  before  him 
at  Dresden,  Wellington  was  advancing  victoriously  in  Spain;  when  a  mil- 
lion of  men  in  1815  were  invading  France,  Napoleon  engaged  for  three  days 
with  two  armies,  each  singly  equal  to  his  own,  and  was  for  two  days  victo- 
rious. Equally  and  utterly  false  are  the  follies  uttered  by  silly  men  of  both 
countries,  about  the  certainty  of  one  beating  the  other.  'Ov  nolo  diacpeofi 
avO-yoiTToq  av&ooMov,  is  especially  applicable  here.  When  Englishmen  and 
Frenchmen  meet  in  war,  each  may  know  that  they  will  meet  in  the  other 
all  a  soldier's  qualities,  skill,  activity,  and  undaunted  courage,  with  bodies 
able  to  do  the  bidding  of  the  spirit  either  in  action  or  in  endurance.  Eng- 
land and  France  may  do  each  other  incalculable  mischief  by  going  to  war, 
both  physically  and  morally ;  but  they  can  gain  for  themselves,  or  hope  to 
gain  nothing.  It  were  an  accursed  wish  in  either  to  wish  to  destroy  the 
other,  and  happily  the  wish  would  be  as  utterly  vain  as  it  would  be  wicked. 

August  6,  1840. 

20.  Left  Dover.  7.45.  What  am  I  to  say  of  this  perfect  road  and  perfect 
posting ;  of  the  greenness  and  neatness  of  every  thing,  the  delicate  miniature 
scale  of  the  country, — the  art  of  the  painter  held  in  honour,  and  extending 
even  to  barns  and  railings, — of  the  manifest  look  of  spring  and  activity  and 
business  which  appears  in  every  body's  movements  ?  The  management  of 
the  Commissioner  at  Dover  in  getting  the  luggage  through  the  Custom 
House,  was  a  model  of  method  and  expedition,  and  so  was  the  attendance  at 
the  inns.  All  this  fills  me  with  many  thoughts,  amongst  which  the  prevailing 
one  certainly  is  not  pride ;  for  with  the  sight  of  all  this  there  instantly  comes 
into  my  mind  the  thought  of  our  sad  plague  spots,  the  canker  worm  in  this 
beautiful  and  goodly  fruit  corrupting  it  within.  But  I  will  not  dwell  on  this 
now, — personally,  I  may  indulge  in  the  unspeakable  delight  of  being  once 
again  in  our  beloved  country,  with  our  English  Church  and  English  Law. 


482  LIFE   0F    DR-  ARNOLD. 

August  9,  1840. 

21.  Left  Milnthorpe,  6.21.  My  last  day's  journal,  I  hope,  dearest,  and 
then  the  faithful  inkstand  which  has  daily  hung  at  my  button-hole  may  retire 
to  his  deserved  rest.  Our  tea  last  night  was  incomparable  ;  such  ham,  such 
bread  and  butter,  such  cake,  and  then  came  this  morning  a  charge  of  4s.  6cZ. 
for  our  joint  bed  and  board  ;  when  those  scoundrels  in  Italy,  whose  very  life 
is  roguery,  used  to  charge  double  and  triple  for  their  dog  fare  and  filthy 
rooms.  Bear  witness  Capua,  and  that  vile  Swiss  Italian  woman  whom  I 
could  wish  to  have  been  in  Capua  (Casilinum)  when  Hannibal  besieged  it, 
and  when  she  must  either  have  eaten  her  shoes,  or  been  eaten  herself  by 
some  neighbour,  if  she  had  not  been  too  tough  and  indigestible.  But,  dear- 
est, there  are  other  thoughts  within  me  as  I  look  out  on  this  delicious  valley 
(we  are  going  down  to  Levens)  on  this  Sunday  morning.  How  calm  and 
beautiful  is  every  thing,  and  here,  as  we  know,  how  little  marred  by  any  ex- 
treme poverty.  And  yet  do  these  hills  and  valleys,  any  more  than  those  of 
the  Apennines,  send  up  an  acceptable  incense  ?  Both  do  as  far  as  nature  is 
concerned — our  softer  glory  and  that  loftier  glory  each  in  their  kind  render 
their  homage,  and  God's  work  so  far  is  still  very  good.  But  with  our  just 
laws  and  pure  faith,  and  here  with  a  wholesome  state  of  property  besides,  is 
there  yet  the  Kingdom  of  God  here  any  more  than  in  Italy  ?  How  can  there 
be  ?  For  the  Kingdom  of  God  is  the  perfect  development  of  the  Church 
of  God :  and  when  Priestcraft  destroyed  the  Church,  the  Kingdom  of  God 
became  an  impossibility.  We  have  now  entered  the  Winster  Valley,  and 
are  got  precisely  to  our  own  sla^s  again,  which  we  left  yesterday  week  in 
the  Vosges.  The  strawberries  and  raspberries  hang  red  to  the  sight  by  the 
road  side  ;  and  the  turf  and  flowers  are  more  delicately  beautiful  than  any 
thing  which  I  have  seen  abroad.  The  mountains,  too,  are  in  their  softest 
haze;  I  have  seen  Old  Man  and  the  Langdale  Pikes  rising  behind  the 
nearer  hills  most  beautifully.  We  have  just»opened  on  Windermere,  and 
vain  it  is  to  talk  of  any  earthly  beauty  ever  equalling  this  country  in  my 
eyes  ;  when  mingling  with  every  form  and  sound  and  fragrance,  comes  the 
full  thought  of  domestic  affections,  and  of  national,  and  of  Christian ;  here 
is  our  own  house  and  home — here  are  our  own  country's  laws  and  language, 
and  here  is  our  English  Church.  No  Mola  di  Gaeta,  no  valley  of  the  Velino. 
no  Salerno  or  Vietri,  no  Lago  di  Pie  di  Lugo  can  rival  to  me  this  vale  of 
Windermere,  and  of  the  Rotha.  And  here  it  lies  in  the  perfection  of  its 
beauty,  the  deep  shadows  on  the  unruffled  water — the  haze  investing  Fairfield 
with  every  thing  solemn  and  undefined.  Arrived  at  Bowness,  8.20.  Left  it 
at  8.31.  Passing  Ragrigg  Gate,  8.37.  On  the  Bowness  Terrace,  8.45, 
Over  Troutbeck  Bridge,  8.51.  Here  is  Ecclerigg,  8.58.  And  here  Lowood 
Inn,  9.4^.  And  here  Waterhead  and  our  ducking  bench,  9.12.  The  valley 
opens — Ambleside,  and  Rydal  Park,  and  the  gallery  on  Loughrigg.  Rotha 
Bridge.  9.16.  And  here  is  the  poor  humbled  Rotha,  and  Mr.  Brancker's 
cut,  and  the  New  Millar  Bridge,  9.21.  Alas  !  for  the  alders  gone  and  suc- 
ceeded by  a  stiff  wall.  Here  is  the  Rotha  in  his  own  beauty,  and  here  is 
poor  T.  Flemming's  Field,  and  our  own  mended  gate.  Dearest  children, 
may  we  meet  happily.  Entered  FOX  HOW,  and  the  birch  copse  at  9.25, 
and  here  ends  journal. — Walter  first  saw  us,  and  gave  notice  of  our  approach. 
We  found  all  our  dear  children  well,  and  Fox  How  in  such  beauty,  that  no 
scene  in  Italy  appeared  in  my  eyes  comparable  to  it.  We  breakfasted,  and 
at  a  quarter  before  eleven,  I  had  the  happiness  of  once  more  going  to  an 
English  Church,  and  that  church  our  own  beloved  Rydal  Chapel. 


X.      TOUR    IN    SOUTH    OF    FRANCE. 


Between  Angouleme  and  Bordeaux,  July  7,  1841. 

1.  Left  Barbiceaux  10.35,  very  rich  and  beautiful.     It  is  not  properly 
southern,  for  there  are  neither  olives  nor  figs ;  nor  is  it  northern,  for  the 


APPENDIX  C.  .  483 

vines  and  maize  are  luxuriant.  It  is  properly  Prance,  with  its  wide  land- 
scapes, no  mountains,  but  slopes  and  hills ;  its  luminous  air,  its  spread  of 
cultivation,  with  the  vines  and  maize  and  walnuts,  mixed  with  the  ripe  corn, 
as  brilliant  in  colouring  as  it  is  rich  in  its  associations.  I  never  saw  a 
brighter  or  a  fresher  landscape.  Green  hedges  line  the  road;  the  hay,  just 
cut,  is  fragrant ;  every  thing  is  really  splendid  for  man's  physical  well  being : 
— it  is  Kent  six  degrees  nearer  the  sun.  Nor  are  there  wanting  church 
towers  enough  to  sanctify  the  scene,  if  one  could  believe  that  with  the  stone 
church  there  was  also  the  living  Church,  and  not  the  accursed  Priestcraft. 
But,  alas !  a  Priest  is  not  a  Church,  but  that  which  renders  a  Church  im- 
possible. 

St   Jean  de  Luz,  July  11th,  1841. 

2.  It  is  this  very  day  year  that  we  were  at  Mola  di  Gaeta  together,  and 
I  do  not  suppose  it  possible  to  conceive  a  greater  contrast  than  Mola  di  Ga- 
eta on  the  11th  of  July,  1840,  and  St.  Jean  de  Luz  on  the  11th  of  July  1841. 
The  lake-like  calm  of  that  sea,  and  the  howling  fury  of  this  ocean, — the 
trees  few  and  meagre,  shivering  from  the  blasts  of  the  Atlantic,  and  the 
umbrageous  bed  of  oranges,  peaches  and  pomegranates,  which  there  de- 
lighted in  the  freshness  of  that  gentle  water ; — the  clear  sky  and  bright  moon, 
and  the  dark  mass  of  clouds  and  drizzle, — the  remains  of  Roman  palaces 
and  the  fabled  scene  of  Homer's  poetry,  and  a  petty  French  fishing  town, 
with  its  coasting  Chasse  Marees:  these  are  some  of  the  points  of  the  con- 
trast. Yet  those  vile  Italians  are  the  refuse  of  the  Roman  slaves,  crossed 
by  a  thousand  conquests  ;  and  these  Basques  are  the  very  primeval  Iberians, 
who  were  the  most  warlike  of  the  nations  of  the  West,  before  the  Kelts  had 
ever  come  near  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean.  And  the  little  pier,  which 
I  have  been  just  looking  at,  was  the  spot  where  Sir  Charles  Penrose  found 
the  Duke  of  Wellington  alone  at  the  dead  of  night,  when  anxious  about  the 
weather  for  the  passage  of  the  Adour,  he  wished  to  observe  its  earliest 
signs  before  other  men  had  left  their  beds. 

Near  Agen,  July  14. 

3.  For  some  time  past  the  road  has  been  a  terrace  above  the  Tower 
bank  of  the  Garonne,  which  is  flowing  in  great  breadth  and  majesty  below 
us 

From  these  heights,  in  clear  weather,  you  can  see  the  Pyrenees,  but  now 
the  clouds  hang  darkly  over  them.  ....  One  thing  I  should  have  no- 
ticed of  Agen,  that  it  is  the  birth-place  of  Joseph  Scaliger,  in  some  respects 
the  Niebuhr  of  the  seventeenth  century,  but  rather  the  Bentley.  morally  far 
below  Niebuhr  ;  and  though,  like  Bentley,  almost  rivalling  him  in  acuteness, 
and  approaching  somewhat  to  him  in  knowledge,  yet  altogether  without  his 
wisdom. 

Auch,July  14,1841. 

4.  At  supper  we  were  reading  a  Paris  paper,  Le  Siecle ;  but  the  one 
thing  which  struck  me,  and  rejoiced  my  very  heart,  was  an  advertisement 
in  it  of  a  most  conspicuous  kind,  and  in  very  large  letters,  of  La  Sainte 
Bible,  announcing  an  edition,  in  numbers,  of  De  Sacy's  French  translation 
of  it.  I  can  conceive  nothing  but  good  from  such  a  thing.  May  God 
prosper  it  to  His  glory,  and  the  salvation  of  souls  ;  it  was  a  joyful  and  a 
blessed  sight  to  see  it. 

Bourges,  July  18. 

5 We  found  the  afternoon  service  going  on  at  the  Cathe- 
dral, and  the  Archbishop,  with  his  priests  and  the  choristers,  were  going 
round  the  church  in  procession,  chanting  some  of  their  hymns,  and  with  a 
great  multitude  of  people  following  them.  The  effect  was  very  fine,  and  I 
again  lamented  our  neglect  of  our  cathedrals,  and  the  absurd  confusion  in  so 
many  men's,  minds  between  what  is  really  Popery  and  what  is  but  wisdom 
and  beauty,  adopted  by  the  Roman  Catholics  and  neglected  by  us. 


484  L1FE  0F   DR-  ARNOLD. 

Paris,  July  20,1841. 

6.  I  have  been  observing  the  people  in  the  streets  very  carefully,  and 
their  general  expression  is  not  agreeable,  that  of  the  young  men  especially. 
The  newspapers  seem  all  gone  mad  together,  and  these  disturbances  at 
Toulouse  are  very  sad  and  unsatisfactory.  If  that  advertisement  which  I 
saw  about  La  Sainte  Bible  be  found  to  answer,  that  would  be  the  great 
specific  for  France.  And  what  are  our  prospects  at  home  with  the  Tory 
Government  ?  and  how  long  will  it  be  before  Chartism  again  forces  itself 
upon  our  notice?  So  where  is  the  hope,  humanly  speaking,  of  things  bet- 
tering, or  are  the  loifioi.  and  lifiai,  nolffiot,  and  azow  7i oXefimv,  ready  to  her- 
ald a  new  advent  of  the  Lord  to  judgment  ?  The  questions  concerning  our 
state  appear  to  me  so  perplexing,  that  I  cannot  even  in  theory  see  their 
solution.  We  have  not  and  cannot  yet  solve  the  problem,  how  the  happi- 
ness of  mankind  is  reconcilable  with  the  necessity  of  painful  labour.  The 
happiness  of  a  part  can  be  secured  easily  enough,  their  ease  being  provided 
for  by  others'  labour;  but  how  can  the  happiness  of  the  generality  be  se- 
cured, who  must  labour  of  necessity  painfully  ?  How  can  he  who  labours 
hard  for  his  daily  bread — hardly,  and  with  doubtful  success — be  made  wise 
and  good,  and  therefore  how  can  he  be  made  happy  ?  This  question  un- 
doubtedly the  Church  was  meant  to  solve;  for  Christ's  Kingdom  was  to  undo 
the  evil  of  Adam's  sin ;  but  the  Church  has  not  solved  it,  nor  attempted  to 
doso  ;  and  no  one  else  has  gone  about  it  rightly.  This  is  the  great  bar  to 
education.  How  can  a  poor  man  find  time  to  be  educated  ?  You  may  es- 
tablish schools,  but  he  will  not  have  time  to  attend  them,  for  a  few  years  of 
early  boyhood  are  no  more  enough  to  give  education,  than  the  spring  months 
can  do  the  summer's  work  when  the  summer  is  all  cold  and  rainy.  But  I 
must  go  to  bed,  and  try  to  get  home  to  you  and  to  work,  for  there  is  great 
need  of  working.     God  bless  you,  my  dearest  wife,  with  all  our  darlings. 

Boulogne,  July  23,  1841. 

7.  Our  tour  is  ended,  and  I  grieve  to  say  that  it  has  left  on  my  mind  a 
more  unfavourable  impression  of  France  than  I  have  been  wont  to  feel.  I 
do  not  doubt  the  great  mass  of  good  which  must  exist,  but  the  active  ele- 
ments, those,  at  least,  which  are  on  the  surface,  seem  to  be  working  for  evil. 
The  virulence  of  the  newspapers  against  England  is,  I  think,  a  very  bad 
omen,  and  the  worship  which  the  people  seem  to  pay  to  Napoleon's  memory 
is  also  deeply  to  be  regretted.  But  it  is  the  misfortune  of  France  that  her 
"  past "  cannot  be  loved  or  respected ;  her  future  and  her  present  cannot  be 
wedded  to  it ;  yet  how  can  the  present  yield  fruit,  or  the  future  have  promise, 
except  their  roots  be  fixed  in  the  past  ?  The  evil  is  infinite,  but  the  blame 
rests  with  those  who  made  the  past  a  dead  thing,  out  of  which  no  healthful 
life  could  be  produced 

.  .  .  .  Much  as  I  like  coming  abroad,  I  am  never  for  an  instant 
tempted  to  live  abroad  ;  not  even  in  Germany,  where  assuredly  I  would 
settle  if  I  were  obliged  to  quit  England.  But  not  the  strongest  Tory  or 
Conservative  values  our  Church  or  Law  more  than  I  do,  or  would  find  life 
less  liveable  without  them.  Indeed  it  is  very-hard  to  me  to  think  that  those 
can  value  either  who  can  see  their  defects  with  indifference ;  or  that  those 
can  value  them  worthily,  that  is,  can  appreciate  their  idea,  who  do  not  see 
wherein  they  fall  short  of  their  idea.  And  now  I  close  this  journal  for  the 
present,  praying  that  God  may  bless  us,  and  keep  us  in  worldly  good  or  evil 
in  Himself  and  in  His  Son.     Amen. 


THE    FOLLOWING    IS    A    LIST    OF 


DR.  ARNOLD'S  PUBLISHED  WORKS. 


THEOLOGICAL    WORKS. 

I.  Six  volumes  of  Sermons:  — 

1st.  Sermons  preached  at  Laleham,  1829. 

2nd.  Sermons  preached  in  the  School  Chapel  at  Rugby.  With  five  Sermons  on 
the  Social  State  of  England,  and  an  Essay  on  the  Interpretation  of  Scripture,  1832. 
[These  last  are  omitted  in  a  smaller  edition  of  this  volume,  entitled  "  Sermons  preached 
in  Rugby  Chapel,"  1832,  which  contains  two  Sermons  not  in  the  larger  edition.] 

3rd.  Selection  of  Sermons,  1832-34,  with  a  Preface  on  the  Study  of  Theology, 
and  two  Appendices  on  Atheism,  and  on  the  Doctrine  of  Apostolical  Succession. 

4th.  Selection  of  Sermons,  ]»35-1841,  entitled  "Christian  Life,  its  Course,  its 
Helps,  and  its  Hindrances  ;"  with  a  Preface  on  the  Oxford  School  of  Theology,  and 
Notes  on  Tradition,  Rationalism,  and  Inspiration. 

5th.  Sermons  preached  1841-1842,  (posthumous,)  entitled  "  Christian  Life,  its 
Hopes,  its  Fears,  and  its  Close." 

6th.  Sermons  mostly  on  the  Interpretation  of  Scripture  (posthumous). 

II.  Two  Sermons  on  Prophecy,  with  Notes,  1839. 

III.  Fragments  on  Church  and  State. 


HISTORICAL    AND    PHILOLOGICAL    WORKS. 

I.  Edition  of  Thucydides,  1st  edition,  1830,  33,  35.     2nd  edition,  1840,  41,  42. 

The  first  volume  contains  a  Preface  on  the  previous  editions  of  Thucydides,  (omit- 
ted in  the  2nd  edition,)  and  Appendices. 

1.  On  the  social  progress  of  States.  2.  On  the  Spartan  constitution.  3.  (Omitted 
in  the  2nd  edition)  on  the  constitution  of  the  Athenian  tribes. 

The  2nd  contains  a  collation  of  a  Venetian  MS.,  and  two  Appendices  on  the  date 
of  the  Pythian  Games,  and  on  the  topography  of  Mognra,  Corinth,  Sphacteria,  and 
Amphipolis. 

The  third  contains  a  Preface  on  the  general  importance  of  Greek  History  to  politi- 
cal science,  and  an  Appendix  on  the  topography  of  Syracuse. 

II.  History  of  Rome,  in  3  volumes,  1838,  40,  42,  which  was  broken  off  by 
his  death  at  the  end  of  the  second  Punic  war. 

III.  Articles  on  Roman  History  in  Encyclopaedia  Metropolitana,  written 
1821-27,  on  the  lives  of"  Hamilcar,"  "  Hannibal,"  "  The  Gracchi,"  «  Sul- 
la," "  Caesar."  "  Augustus,"  "  Trajan."  and  "  the  Historians  of  Rome." 

IV.  "  Introductory  Lectures  on  Modern  History."     1842. 


436  LIST  0F  DR-  ARNOLD'S  PUBLISHED  WORKS. 

MISCELLANEOUS    WORKS. 

I.  "  The  Christian  Duty  of  conceding  the  Roman  Catholic  Claims."     1828. 

II.  Englishman's  Register — Articles  in,  signed  A.     1831. 

III.  Tract  on  the  Cholera,  addressed  to  the  inhabitants  of  Rugby.     1831. 

IV.  Letters  to  the  Sheffield  Courant,  on  the  Social  Distress  of  the  Lower 
Orders.     1831,  32. 

V.  Preface  on  "  Poetry  of  Common  Life,"  to  a  collection  of  poetry  under 
that  name.     Published  by  J.  C.  Piatt,  Sheffield.     1832. 

VI.  "  Principles  of  Church  Reform,"  with  "  Postscript."     1833. 

VII.  Lecture  before  Mechanics'  Institute,  at  Rugby,  on  the  Divisions  of 
Knowledge.     1839. 

VIII.  Letters  to  the  Hertford  Reformer,  on  Chartism,  and  on  Church  and 
State.     1839,  40,  41. 

IX.  Paper  on  the  revival  of  the  order  of  Deacons.     1841. 

In  addition  to  these  were  various  articles  in  periodical  journals. 

1.  On  Southey's  Wat  Tyler.  )  British  c  _2Q 

2.  On  Cunningham  s  De  Kance.      ) 

3.  On  Niebuhr's  "History  of  Rome."     In  Quarterly  Review,  vol.  xxxii.     1825. 

4.  On  "  Letters  of  an  Episcopalian."     Ed.  Review,  vol.  xliv.     1826. 

5.  On  "  Dr.  Hampden."     Edinb.  Review,  vol.  lxiii.     1836. 

6.  On  "  Rugby  School,"  and  on  "  the  Discipline  of  Public  Schools,  by  a  Wyke- 
hamist," in  the  Quarterly  Journal  of  Education,  vols.  vii.  ix      1834-35. 

Of  these  miscellaneous  works  it  is  proposed  to  republish  those  which 
possess  any  permanent  interest,  in  a  separate  volume,  with  some  others 
which  were  left  in  MS. 


The  monument  erected  to  Dr.  Arnold's  memory  in  Rugby  Chapel  was 
executed  by  Mr.  Thomas.  The  Epitaph  was  written  by  Chevalier  Bunsen, 
in  imitation  of  those  on  the  tombs  of  the  Scipios,  and  of  the  early  Christian 
inscriptions  on  similar  subjects. 

The  final  regulations  for  the  distribution  of  the  fund  which  has  been  or 
is  to  be  collected  for  the  purpose  of  founding  institutions  at  Rugby  and  at 
Oxford  to  Dr.  Arnold's  memory,  will,  it  is  believed,  be  arranged  by  the  com- 
mittee appointed  for  that  purpose,  in  the  course  of  the  present  year. 


INDEX. 


Abbott,  Jacob,  225,  235,  301. 

Alexander,  137. 

Animal  Magnetism,  306. 

Antichrist,  68,  130,  161,310,  353. 

Appii  Forum,  475. 

Aristocracy,  184,  309,320,  357,  368. 

Aristotle,  34,  65,  395. 

Arnold,  Thomas,  Birth,  25. — Education 
at  School,  26. — Entrance  at  Oxford, 
28. —  Marriage  and  settlement  at  Lale- 
ham,  40. — Election  at  Rugby,  55. — 
Purchase  of  Fox  How,  153—  Profes- 
sorship at  Oxford,  404,  411.— Death, 
443. — Character  as  a  boy,  26. — As  a 
young  man,  37. — At  Laleham,  40  — 
Religious  belief,  42. — General  views 
in  later  life,  125. — Domestic  life,  150. 
— Intercourse  with  friends,  152. — 
with  the  poor,  152. — Formation  of  his 
opinions,  359. 

Articles  of  the  Church  of  England,  221, 
240,  274,  366. 

Arts,  Degree  in,  298,  303. 

Asia  Minor,  248. 

Association,  British,  344. 

Athanasian  Creed,  322,  366. 

Atheism,  195. 

Attic  Society,  35. 

Austria,  375. 

Avignon  j  344,  465. 

Balston,  Henry,  illness  and  death,  373, 

385. 
Barante,  285. 
Basque  language,  421. 
Blackstone,  Rev.  F.  C,  35. 
Buccaneers,  358. 
Bunsen,  Chevalier,  50,  222,  241,  326, 

331. 
Bunyan,292. 
Butler,  292. 

Canons,  367. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  320,  354,  421,  426. 


Caution,  387,  405. 

Chartism,  327,  339,  343,  349,  354,  356. 

Chartres,  463,  464. 

China,  war  with,  364. 

Chivalry,  161. 

Cholera,  306. 

Church,   endowment  and    building  of, 

351.  6       ' 

extension,  369. 

government,  238,  242. 

consent  of,  298. 

property,  294. 

of  England,  233,  250,  386,  387. 

—Divines  of,  292,  343. 
Reform,  first  thoughts  of,  52,  68. 

— Pamphlet  on,  235. 

Rates,  294. 

• History  of,  138,  238,  468. 

Views   of  its  ends  and  nature, 

144,  265,  290,293,  328,  356,  382,  384. 
— In  what  sense  a  society,  172. 

■ and  state,  work    on,  53,  144. — 

Identity  of,  72,  147,  229,  313,  332, 

355,  479,  482,  483. 
Civilization,  246,  468. 
Classics,  98. 
Clerical     profession,    337. — Education, 

237,  344.  ' 

Clubs,  235,  393. 
Cobbett,  242. 
Coleridge,  Mr.  Justice,  Letter  from,  28, 

Elevation  to  the  Bench,  238. 

Samuel  Taylor,  257,  288,  343, 

358.  ' 

Cologne,  453.— Archbishop  of,  313 
Colonization,   165,  283,  357,  359,  368, 

426. 
Colosseum,  452. 

Commentary,  design  of,  140,  198,  199. 
Communion  at  Rugby,  110. 
Como,  Lake  of,  448,  453,  455,  457. 
Confession,  227. 
Confirmations,  111. 
Conservatism,  132,  161,  178,  242,  268, 

356. 


488 


INDEX. 


Consumption,  252,  373. 

Conversion  of    barbarian  nations,    53, 

140. 
Convicts,  283,  357. 
Corn  Laws,  185,  354. 
Cornish,  Rev.  George,  32. 
Corpus  Christi  College,  28. 
Corfu,  363. 

Crau,  plain  of,  341,  465. 
Crucifixes,  192,  468. 
Cyprian,  375,  401. 
Cyrus,  a  type  of  Christ,  360. 

Daniel,  Prophecies  of,  66,  358. 

Davison,  Rev.  John,  359. 

Deacons,  Revival  of,  335:  350,  371. 

Delafield,  Mrs.  Frances,  234. 

Debt,  national,  184. 

Discipline,  Church,  145.— School,  87. 

Dissentars,  250,  356,  396 — Admission 

of,  to  Universities,  230,  266. 
Dyson,  Rev.  Francis,  32. 

Edinburgh  Review,  article  in,  262. 

Egyptian  hieroglyphics,  331. 

Elections,  463. 

Elbe,  454. 

Elphinstone's  India,  420 

Englishman's  Register,  176,  181,  185, 
186,  191,355. 

Episcopacy,  respect  for,  164,  233,  315. 
—Not  essential,  229,  361,  375. 

Evangelicals,  73,  177,181. 

Evidences  of  Christianity,  190.— Inter- 
nal, 375. 

of  Theism,  195. 

Eucharist,  doctrine  of,  298,  333,  348. 

Examiner,  office  of,  299. 

Expulsion  from  public  schools,  70,  92, 
240. 

Fagging,  89. 

Fanaticism,  279. 

Festivals  of  the  Church,  111. 

Feudality,  dislike  to,  161,  466. 

Fifth  Form  at  public  schools,  240. 

Fleury's  Ecclesiastical  History,  237. 

Flogging,  87. 

Flowers,  love  of,  155,  368. 

Foundationers  of  Rugby  school,  338. 

Fox  How,  153,  352,  482. 

Franklin,  Sir  John,  282. 

France,  309,  460,  465,  467. 

Freemasonry,  393. 

Froude's  Remains,  324. 

Gaius,  Institutes  of,  288,  289. 

Gell,    J.    P.,  255. — Appointed  principal 

of  a  college  in  Van   Diemen's  Land, 

336— Letter  from,  435. 
Geology,  35,  344. 
Germany,  453,  460. 
Gibbon,  139. 
Girls,  education  of,  384. 


Gladstone  on  Church  and  State,  335. 

on  Church  I'rinciples,  383. 

Goethe,  294. 

Grammars,  240,  298. 

Greek  History,  137. 

Greece,     influence    of,    247. — Ancient 

and  modern,  389. 
Grotins,  237. 
Guizot,  384,  460. 

Hampden,  Rev.  Dr.,  39,  26J,  273. 
Hannibal,  like  Nelson, 388. — His  march, 

402. 
Hare,  Rev.  Augustus,   35. — His  death, 

228. 

Archdeacon,  35. 

Hawkins,  Rev.  Dr.,  39. — Prediction  on 

the  election  at  Rugby,  55. — Bampton 

Lectures,  126,  375. 
Hearn,  Rev.  James,  44. 
Hebrew,  attempts  to  learn,  243,  331. 
Hebrews,  Epistle  to,   doubts  respecting, 

329. 
Hertford  Reformer,  letters  to,  327,  353. 
Heresy,  221,222. 
Herodotus,  34,  104,  458. 
Hey's  Lectures,  237. 
Homer,  105. 
Hooker,  292. 
Hull,  W.  W,  35. 

Idolatry,  279,  297,  468. 

Illyrians,  235. 

Impartiality  in  religion,  294. 

India,  interest  in,  60,  361,  420. 

Influence  over  scholars,  1<!2. 

Innocent  HI.,  239,  413. 

Instruction,  95. 

Inscriptions,  478. 

Inspiration,  69,  143. 

Intellectual  united  with  moral  excel- 
lence, 96. 

Interpretation  of  Scripture,  143. — Essay 
on,  177,  193. 

Intolerance,  209. 

Isle  of  Wight,  28,  281. 

Ireland,  64,  156,  23],  274,  277. 

Irvingism,  189,267. 

Italy,  389,  468. 

Jacobinism,  132,215,  343,  478. 
James,  St.,  Epistle  of,  181. 
Jerusalem,  Bishopric  of,  404. 
Jesuits,  317. 

Jews,  admission  of  to  Parliament,  230, 
274,  275,  277.— Influence  of,  414. 

Keble,  Rev.  John,  32. — Advice  and 
letter  on  doubts,  36. — Christian  year, 
32. 

Laingon  Norway,  354. 

Lamennais,  405. 

Law,  profession  of,  55,  296,  306,  380. 


INDEX. 


489 


Lee,  Rev.  J.  P.,  340. 

Legends  of  Roman  History,  310,  311. 

Liberal  principles,  131,  253,  456. 

Lieber  on  education,  269,  302. 

Liglufoot,  237. 

Livy,  137,  171,254,403. 

London,  463. 

London  University,  263,  302,  306,  303, 

310,  312,  315,  320,  325. 
Lugano,  457. 

Macaulay,  T.  B.,322. 

Mahometanism,  473. 

Marriage  Bill,  282. 

Martyrs,  strong    feeling  towards,    140, 
401,  474. 

Masters,  assistant,  81. 

Mathematics,  99,  368,  369. 

Materialism,  287. 

Maurice,  Rev.  F  ,  358,  428. 

Mechanics'  Institutes,  152,227,  343,353. 

Mediterranean,  455. 

Medicine,  277,  296,  306. 

Merivale,  Herman,  314. 

Millennium,  148,  190. 

Milman's  History  of  the  Jews,  172. 

Milton's  Satan,  468. 

Missionary,  call  to  be,  361. 

Moberly,  Rev.   Dr.,   79. — Letter  from, 
126. 

Mola  di  Gaeta,  475,  483. 

Modern  languages,  99. 

Modena,  479. 

Monte  Mario,  451. 

Mountain  scenery,  227,  284. 

Music,  368. 

Naples,  476. 

Niebuhr,  49,  138,  269,  356.— Visit  to 
183,  459.— Death,  182.— Third  vol- 
ume, 222,  339.— Life  and  Letters,  339, 
363. 

Neutrality,  288. 

New  Zealand,  357. 

Newman,  Rev.  John  Henry,  261,  312, 
410. 

Newspaper  writing,  309,  361. 

Nonjurors,  317. 

Oaths,  384,  416. 

Old  Testament,  views  of,  142. 

Ordination,  40,  328,  350,  333. 

Oriel  College,  36. 

Orleans,  467. 

Oscans,  269. 

Oxford  school  of  theology,  114,259,  329, 

333,  353,  388,  407,  414,  428. 
Oxford,  29,  260,  285,  296,  372,  374,  376, 

389,  409. 
Oxford  examinations,  323. 
Ottery,  376. 

Padua,  171. 

Pantheon,  474. 


Papacy,  413,  473. 

Party  Spirit,  133,  305. 

Paul,  St.,  Epistles  of,  140,  181,269,288, 
290,  426  — Journey  to  Rome,  475. 

Pearson  on  the  Creed,  384. 

Pestilences,  306. 

Physical  science,  277,  369. 

Pisa,  469. 

Pindar,  249. 

Plato,  254,  257 

Poetry  in  education,  166,  284. 

Pole's  Synopsis,  237. 

Politics,  131,  478. 

Political  rights,  356. 

Political  economists,  355. 

Polybius,254. 

Popular  principles,  132,  246,  253,  353, 
355,356. 

Pompeii,  476. 

Pompey,  139. 

Poor,  intercourse  with,  152, 198,  288. 

Poor  Law,  New,  291,  334. 

Prayers  in  Rugby  school,  438. 

Price  B  ,  letter  from,  47,  141. 

Priesthood,  doctrine  of,  146,  229,  286, 
290,  293,  356,  375,  382,  394,  464,  475, 
482, 484. 

Private  schools,  247. 

Privilege  question,  363. 

Professorship  at  Oxford,  409. 

Prophets,  use  of,  181. 

Prophecy,  early  views  of,  66. — Two 
Sermons  on,  144,  327,  358,  360,  370. 

Prussia,  King  of,  371. 

Public  schools,  state  of,  77. — Constitu- 
tion of,  83. — Change  in,  125. 

Quakers,  267. 

Railways,  463. 
Randall,  Rev.  James,  35. 
Rationalism,  286, 298,  377. 
Reactions,  335. 
Record  Newspaper,  180. 
Reform  Bill,  185, 186,462. 
Reformation  in  England,  66,  226,412. 
Revolution,  French,  66,   179. — Second 

French  Revolution,  170,  173,  183. 
Rieti,  476. 
Rivers,  454. 
Robespierre,  279. 
Roman  History,  27,  49, 136— Plan  of, 

296,  335. — Motives  in  undertaking  it, 

49.— 1st  volume  of,  320,  369, 371,  377, 

385,  387. 
Rome,  visits  to,  50,  449,  469.— Advice 

on  visiting,  323. 
Roman  Empire,  475. 
Catholicism,    68,     164,    406.— 

Abroad,  448,451,464,483. 

Catholic      Relief     Act,     157. — 


Pamphlet  in  defence  of,  157,  275. 
Rotheon  the  Church,  313. 

32 


490 


INDEX. 


Rugby  Magazine,  237,  257. 
Rugby,  150, 320,  370,  389,  395. 
Russia,  374. 

Sacraments,  administration  of,  286. 

Sacrifice,  Eucharistic,  393. 

Salon,  341. 

Sanderson  on  Government,  312. 

Sanscrit,  377. 

Savigny,  452. 

Scaliger,483. 

Skepticism,  250,  324. 

Schism,  164,  228,  396. 

Scotch  Presbyterian  Church,  461. 

Scripture  teaching,  106. — Reading  of, 
118. — Translation  of  in  France,  483. 

Swiss,  479. 

Switzerland,  480. 

Sectarianism,  145,  238. 

Sermons  at  Rugby,  113. — 1st  volume, 
53,  75.— 2nd,  112,  175.— 3rd,  209.— 
4th,  329,  385,  398.— 5th,  401. 

Shakspeare,  284. 

Sheffield  Courant  Letters,  176,  1S8. 

Sixth  Form  in  Public  Schools,  89. 

Selwyn,  Bishop,  407,  420. 

Slavery,  335,  351,  479.— In  West  Indies, 
65. 

Southey,  271,  386. 

State  services,  371. 

Stephen,  James,  405. 

Strauss,  289,  347. 

Strype,  237. 

Subscription,  difficulties  of,  228,  350, 
367,  371,  406. 

Succession,  Apostolical.  (See  Priest- 
hood.) 

Supremacy  of  the  King,  356,  378. 

Taylor,  Isaac,  353. 

— ■ ,  Jeremy,  292. 

Te  Deum,  love  for,  110. 


Theological  reading,  237,344.— Plan  for 

review,  239. 
Thirlwall's  Greece,  358. 
Thucydides,  fondness  for,  34. — Edition 

of,  49,    68,  137,  156,    304.— Second 

edition  of,  327. 
Tongues,  gift  of,  189,  267. 
Toulon,  343. 

Tracts  for  the  Times,  228,  280. 
Tract  90,  330,  406. 
Tradition,  266,  317. 
Translation,  104.— Of  the  Bible,  225. 
Transportation,  343, 
Travelling,  452,  480. 

Journals,  448. 

Tucker,  Rev.  J.,  211,  397. 

Unitarianism,  162,  200,  214,  230,  299, 

340,  464. 
Useful  Knowledge  Society,  175,  187. 
Utilitarianism,  285. 

Van   Diemen's  Land,  College  in,  336, 

368,  387,  392. 
Venice,  171. 
Viva  voce  Examinations,  319. 

Warminster,  25,  26,  27,  28. 

War,  horror  of,  210,  374,  381,  481. 

Wardenship  of  Manchester  declined, 
372. 

Weather,  interest  in,  301. 

Wellington,  Duke  of,  dispatches,  301. 

Welsh,  study  of,  366. 

Whately,  Rev.  Dr.,  39,  192,  223,  289. 
— Prediction  at  Oriel  election,  39. — 
Elevation  to  the  see  of  Dublin,  192. 

Wills,  458. 

Winchester,  26,  282. 

Wordsworth,  33,  195. — Degree  at  Ox- 
ford, 327,  341 


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EVANS'S  Rectory  of  Valehead.     16mo 75 


THE    COMPLETE    WORKS    OF    RICHARD    HOOKER, 

WITH  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  HIS  LIFE  AND  DEATH,  BY  ISAAC  WALTON. 
ARRANGED  BY  THE  REV.  JOHN  KEBLE,  A.  M. 

WITH  A  COMPLETE  GENERAL  INDEX, 

TO  WHICH  IS   APPENDED  AN  INDEX  OF  TEXTS  OF  SCRIPTURE  PREPARED   EXPRESSLY  FOR  THIS  E^xTIOW. 

Three  volumes  of  Oxford  edition  in  two  handsome  8vo.  volumes.     Price  $4. 

"  Hooker's  was  certainly  tne  nnest  mina  that  employed  itself  on  Theological  studies  subsequently  to  th'.  Reformation  In 
Bnriand,  and  his  great  work.  '  The  Laws  of  Ecclesiastical  Polity,'  is  likely  to  ful61  the  prophecy  of  Clen'oiit,  and  last  unt^ 
helinal  fire  shall  consume  all  learning." — Haweis'  Sketches  of  the  Reformation. 


D.  Jlppleton  ^r  Co.  have 

IN  COURSE  OP  PUBLICATION  IN  PARTS,  PRICE  25  CENTS  EACH, 

HISTORY  OF  TRANCE, 

FROM  THE  EARLIEST  PERIOD  TO  THE  PRESENT  TIME. 

BY  M.   MICHELET, 

Professeur-suppleant  a  la  Faculte   des  Lettres,  Professeur  a    l'Ecole  Normale,  Chef  de  la  Sec- 
tion Historique  aux  Archives  du  Royaume. 

TRANSLATED  BY  G.  H.  SMITH,  F.  G.  S.,  &c.       . 

TJie  celebrity  of  this  work  on  the  Continent,  and  the  want  in  English  Literature  of  a  good 
History  of  France,  have  induced  the  publishers  to  introduce  it  to  the  American  public  at  a  price 
within  the  means  of  all. 

#\  It  is  designed  to  publish  the  work  in  monthly  parts,  (or  oftener  if  possible.)  Two 
parts  of  the  American  edition  containing  a  volume  of  the  Paris,  at  one-third  the  cost.  The 
whole  work  will  probably  make  sixteen  Nos.,  and  bind  in  four  octavo  volumes. 

OPINIONS  OF  HIGH  CRITICAL  AUTHORITIES. 

From  the  Foreign  Quarterly  Review,  Vol.  L.    No. 

"M.  Michelet,  whose  Historical  labors  both  on  Ancient  and  Modern  topics  have  long  ren- 
dered him  a  great  favorite  with  the  French  public,  is  placed  in  one  of  the  most  enviable  situa- 
tions that  an  historian  can  hold,  as  chief  of  the  Historical  Section  in  the  Archives  du  Royaume 
— all  the  riches  of  this  immense  establishment  are  in  his  own  keeping;  and  this  circumstance, 
added  to  his  honorable  position  of  Professor  of  History  for  France,  puts  him  at  once  at  the 
head  of  the  historical  portion  of  his  own  countrymen.  To  the  accumulated  stores  of  a  life  of 
continual  research  he  adds  the  precious  acquirements  of  a  most  accomplished  modern  linguist, 
and  a  well  read  scholar  in  the  tongues  of  classical  antiquity;  he  possesses  unwearied  powers 
of  application,  and  is  one  of  the  most  conscientious  searchers  of  original  documents  that  is  any 
where  to  be  met  with.  .  .  .  The  highly  poetical  and  religious  turn  of  mind  of  this  author  leads 
him  to  place  every  thing  in  new  and  original  points  of  view  ;  his  descriptions  are  accurate, 
full  of  details,  and  eminently  graphic.  After  quoting  passages  from  the  author's  work,  the  re- 
viewer says:  These  passages,  which  we  have  cited  at  considerable  length  in  order  to  make 
the  reader  more  fully  acquainted  with  M.  Michelet's  style,  are  too  beautiful,  too  dramatic,  to 
need  much  comment  of  our  own.  We  need  only  say  that  the  same  strain  of  poesy  pervades 
almost  every  page  of  his  book:  that  as  the  reader  turns  over  leaf  after  leaf  he  finds  new  views 
opening  to  his  sight,  new  methods  of  treating  matters  of  previously  well  known  historical  ce- 
lebrity, and  every  where  the  most  cheering  and  amiable  display  of  candor,  moderation,  and 
conscientious  judgment.  It  is  impossible  to  peruse  these  volumes  without  feeling  a  regard  for 
the  author  that  increases  the  farther  we  advance  in  them." 

"Michelet's  History  has  only  to  be  translated  to  become  one  of  the  most  popular  books 
ever  published.  The  author  is  a  man  of  the  highest  genius  ;  his  erudition  is  wonderful,  and 
it  is  at  once  philosophic  and  dramatic,  uniting  the  severest  judgment  to  the  most  facile  and 
delicate  imagination.  His  history  is  thus  not  only  a  succession  of  faithful  pictures  but  a  series 
of  the  profoundest  deductions.  The  modern  French  school  of  history,  comprising  as  it  does, 
among  many  illustrious  names,  those  of  Thiers,  Guizot,  arid  Thierry,  is  deservedly  acknow- 
ledged as  the  first  in  Europe,  and  at  the  head  of  it  we  should  certainly  place  Mons.  Michelet/' 
—  .Monthly  Magazine. 

From  the  Edinburgh  Review. 

"  What  reason  induces  the  educated  part  of  our  countrymen  to  ignore,  in  so  determined  a  manner,  the  more  solid 
pioductions  of  the  most  active  national  mind  in  Europe,  and  to  limit  their  French  readings  to  M.  De  Balzac  and  Eugene 
Sue,  there  would  be  some  difficulty  in  precisely  determining.  Perhaps  it  is  the  ancient  dread  of  French  frivolity  and 
superficiality.  If  it  be  the  former,  we  can  assure  them  that  there  is  no  longer  ground  for  such  a  feeling  ;  if  the  latter, 
we  must  be  permitted  to  doubt  that  there  ever  was.  It  is  unnecessary  to  discuss  whether,  as  some  affirm,  a  strong 
religious  'revival'  is  taking  place  in  France,  and  whether  such  a  phenomenon,  if  real,  is  likely  to  be  permanent. 
There  is  at  least  a  decided  reaction  against  the  infidelity  of  the  last  age.  The  Voltairian  philosophy  is  looked  upon  as 
a  thing  of  the  ^sst  ;  one  of  its  most  celebrated  assailants  has  been  heard  to  lament  that  it  has  no  living  representative, 
sufficiently  considerable  to  perform  the  functions  of  a  '  constitutional'  opposition  against  the  reigning  philosophic  doc- 
trines. The  present  French  tbinkers.  whether  receiving  Christianity  ornot  as  a  divine  revelation,  in  no  way  feel  them- 
selves called  uoon  to  be  unjust  to  it  as  a  fact  in  history.  There  are  men  who,  not  disguising  their  own  unbelief,  have 
written  deeper  and  finer  things  in  vindication  of  what  religion  has  done  for  mankind,  than  have  sufficed  to  foundthe 
reputation  of  its  most  admired  defenders.  If  they  have  any  historical  prejudice  on  the  subject,  it  is  in  favor  of  the 
priesthood.  They  leave  the  opinions  of  David  Hume  on  ecclesiastical  history,  to  the  exclusive  patronage  (we  are 
sorry  »o  say;  of  Protestant  writers  in  Great  Britain. 

"  *  *  *"  M.  Michelet's  are  not  books  to  save  a  reader  the  trouble  of  thinking,  but  to  make  him  boil  over  with 
thought.  Their  effect  on  the  mind  is  not  acquiescence,  but  stir  and  ferment.  For  his  book,  at  least  in  the  earlier 
volumes,  is  a  history  of  the  middle  ages,  quite  as  much  as  of  France  ;  and  he  has  aimed  at  giving  us,  not  the  dry  husk, 
but  the  spirit  of  those  ages.  This  had  never  been  done  before  in  the  same  degree,  not  even  by  his  eminent  precursor, 
Thierry,  except  for  the  period  of  the  Germanic  invasions.  The  great  value  of  the  book  is,  that  it  does,  to  some 
extent,  make  ue  understand  what  was  really  passing  in  the  collective  mind  of  each  generation.  For,  in  assuming 
distinctness,  the  life  of  the  past  assumes  also  variety  under  M.  Michelet's  hands.  With  him,  each  period  has  a  phy- 
siognomy and  a  character  of  its  own.  It  is  in  reading  him  that  wo  are  made  to  feel  distinctly,  how  many  successive 
"•onditions  of  humanity,  and  states  of  the  human  mind,  are  habitually  confounded  under  the  appellation  of  the  middle 
at'es.  To  common  perception,  those  times  are  like  a  distant  range  of  mountains,  all  melted  together  into  one  cloud- 
like  barrier. 

>'*  *  *  M.  Michelet  is  a  man  of  deep  erudition  and  extensive  research.  He  has  a  high  reputation  among  ttie 
French  learned  for  his  industry;  while  his  official  positu  n,  which  connects  him  with  the  archives  of  the  kingdom, 
nas  given  him  access  to  a  rich  source  of  unexplored  au'.iorities,  of  which  he  has  made  abundant  use  in  his  early 
volumes,  and  which  promise  to  be  of  still  greater  importance  in  those  yet  to  come.  Even  in  its  mere  facts,  therefore, 
this  history  is  considerably  in  advance  of  all  previously  written." 


D.  Appleton  6f  Co.  have  just  Published 
THE    STANDARD   PRONOUNCING    DICTIONARY 

OF    THF 

FRENCH  AND  ENGLISH  LANGUAGES, 

IN  TWO  PARTS. 

PART  I.,  FRENCH  AND  ENGLISH.— PART  II.,  ENGLISH  AND  FRENCH. 

The  First  Part  comprehending  words  in  common  use.     Terms  connected  with  Science.     Terms  belonging  to  the  Fine 
Arts.    4000  Historical  Names.    41)01)  Geographical  Names,  1100  terms  lately  published,  with  the 

PRONUNCIATION    OF   EVERY   WORD 

According  to  the  French  Academy  and  the  most  eminent  Lexicographers  and  Grammarians, 
TOGETHER  WITH 

750   CRITICAL  REMARKS, 

In  which  the  various  methods  of  pronouncing  employed  by  different  authors  are  investigated  and  compared  with  each  ether. 
The  Second  Part,  containing  a  copious  vocabulary  of  English  words  and  expressions,  with  the  pronunciation  according  to 

Walker 

THE  WHOLE  PRECEDED  BY 


A   PRACTICAL  AND  COMPREHENSIVE  SYSTEM  OF  FRENCH  PRONUNCIATION, 

BY  GABRIEL  SURENNE,  F.A.S.E., 


French  Teacher  in  Edinburgh  ;  Corresponding  Member  of  the  French  Grammatical  Society  of  Paris  ;  Lecturer  on  Military 

History  in  tin:  Scottish  Naval  and  Military  Academy ;  and  author  of  several  works  on  Education. 
Reprinted  from  a  duplicate  cast  of  the  stereotype  plates  of  the  last  Edinburgh  Edition.  One  stout  volume.  12mo.    900  pages 


AUTHOR'S   PREFACE. 

No  French  Pronouncing  Dictionary  having  as  yet  appeared  in  French  Education,  the  public  are  now  presented  with  one, 
the  nature  and  compass  of  which  will  give  an  idea  of  the  numerous  and  laborious  investigations  made  by  the  Author,  to  ren- 
der the  present  work  useful  and  acceptable. 

It  is  now  upwards  ofsix  years  since  this  work  was  undertaken,  and  the  resolutiou  of  bringingit  to  light,  arose  from  a  di- 
versity of  opinion  in  Pronunciation,  which  he  discovered  long  ago  in  the  various  Dictionaries  and  Grammars  made  use  of  by 
him  in  preparing  his  former  course  of  Lectures  on  French  and  English  Comparative  Philology. 

In  the  course  of  his  labours,  had  the  Author  fmnd  but  little  difference  among  French  writers,  probably  no  criticism 
would  have  appeared  in  the  present  work:  but  as  he  went  along,  his  attention  was  arrested  by  so  many  opposite  views  in 
the  mode  of  sounding  letters  and  words,  that  nothing  short  of  a  full  investigation  could  Eatisfy  him.  The  result  of  his  inves- 
tigations is  embodied  in  the  Dictionary,  and  hence  the  origin  of  the  critical  remarks  with  which  it  abounds;  the  nature  and 
extent  of  which,  of  themselves,  would  form  a  volume  conveying  mnuh  solid  instruction,  as  well  as  offering  a  sad  picture  of  ihe 
uncertainties  of  French  Pronunciation,  of  which  nine-tenths  perhaps  of  the  Author's  countrymen  are  not  aware.  Even  upon 
the  mere  sounds  of  oi,  there  are  many  conflicting  opinions,  and  the  vacillating  pen  of  Laudais.  the  last  writer  upon  Parisian 
pronunciation,  by  whom  oi  is  represented  sometimes  by  oa,  and  sometimes  by  w,  has  increased  the  perplexity  in  nu  small 
degree. 

The  method  employed  by  the  Author  for  representing  the  sounds  of  words,  is  intended  to  meet  the  British  eye  ;  and  he 
has  been  careful  to  make  use  of  none  but  genuine  French  letters,  that  the  reader  may  not  be  deceived,  nor  induced  to  follow 
a  vicious  system  of  articulation. 

As  to  the  pronunciation  of  Foreign  Historical  and  Geographical  names,  it  is  laid  down  in  the  same  manner,  as  if  a  French- 
man at  Paris  were  reading  aloud ;  in  this  case  nothing  would  be  left  to  him  but  to  Frenchify  every  proper  name,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  few  living  Authors. 

In  ending  this  j>art  of  the  Preface,  it  is  of  importance  to  observe  that  no  syllable  in  this  Work  is  invested  with  the  sylla- 
bical  accent,  because,  as  yet,  excepting  two  or  three  Grammarians  along  with  the  Author,  no  writer  in  France,  nor  even  the 
Academy  itself,  has  thought  proper  to  enforce  this  part  of  delivery,  how  unfortunately  neglected. 

The  Phraseology,  forming  the  second  essential  part  of  this  Dicticyiary,  is  based  on  that  of  the  Academy,  the  sole  and  le- 
gitimate authority  in  France  ;  and  every  effort  of  the  Author  has  been  so  directed,  as  to  render  it  both  copious  and  practical. 
With  this  view,  an  improved  method  of  elucidating  new  meanings,  by  employing  parentheses,  has  been  introduced,  and  it  is 
hoped  that  the  utility  and  Lenefits  resulting  from  this  improvement,  will  not  fail  to  be  duly  appreciated. 

Another  novelty  to  which  the  Author  may  lay  claim,  is  the  placing  of  Historical  and  Geographical  Names  below  each 
page  ;  and,  by  this  arrangement,  the  facility  of  being  acquainted  with  their  definition  and  pronunciation  at  a  single  glance, 
will  be  found  of  no  small  advantage. — As  to  the  English  or  second  part  of  this  Dictionary,  the  reader  will  find  it  to  consist  of  8 
copious  vocabulary  of  terms,  with  their  pronunciation,  according  to  the  system  of  Walker.  The  various  meanings  of  the 
words  are  translated  into  French  ;  and  when  the  expressions  happen  to  be  substantives,  the  French  gender  is  pointed  out  by 
means  of  proper  signs. 

Lastly,  that  competent  judges  may  be  aware  of  the  authorities  on  which  the  pronunciation  and  critical  remarks  pervading 
this  Dictionary  are  founded,  the  titles  and  dates  of  the  works  which  have  been  consulted,  with  brief  reflections  on  their  pro- 
fessed object,  will  he  found  in  the  Introduction  following  this  Preface. 

Inconclusion,  if  the  present  result  of  a  long,  patient  and  laborious  investigation  of  comparative  pronunciation,  as  yet  un- 
published in  France,  be  thought  of  some  use  in  French  Education,  and  deserving  the  attention  as  well  as  the  support  of  tni 
Teachers  and  Professors  of  the  French  Language  in  the  British  Empire,  the  Author  will  feel  himself  amply  rewarded  ;  and  at 
the  same  time,  bound  to  improve  gradually  the  stereotyped  plates,  that  the  Dictionary,  by  approaching  perfection,  may  be  ren- 
dered still  more  worthy  of  general  approbation. 


A    CATALOGUE    OF 

BOOKS, 

IN  VARIOUS  DEPARTMENTS  OF  LITERATURE, 


PUBLISHED    BY 


D.  APPLETON  h  Co.,  New-York, 


GEO.  S.  APPLETON,  Philadelphia. 
For  sale  by  the  several  Booksellers  throughout  the  United  States. 

(Elassifieb  Into*. 


AGRICULTURE. 
Falkner  on  Manures. 
Smith's  Productive  Farming. 
Farmer's  Treasure.  Oy  Falkner  and  Smith. 

ARTS,  MANUFACTURES,  &c. 
Ewbank's  Mechanics  and  Hydraulics. 
Hodge  on  the  Steam-Engine. 
Lafever's  Modern  Architecture. 

"        Stair-case  Construction. 
L're'j  Dictionary  of  Arts,  Manuf.,  and  Mines. 

BIOGRAPHY. 
Kamilton  (Alex.),  Life  of. 
Philip's  Life  of  Milne. 

CHEMISTRY. 
Fresonius's  Chemical  Analysis. 
Liebig's  Chemical  Letters. 
Parnell's  Applied  Chemistry. 

EDUCATION. 
Hazen's  Symbolical  Speller. 
Keightley's  Mythology  of  Greece  and  Italy. 
Taylor's  Homo  Education 

HISTORY. 
Frost'   History  of  United  Slates  Nary. 
H  "  Army. 


Guizot's  History  of  Civilization. 
L'Ardeche's  History  of  Napoleon. 
Taylor's  Natural  History  of  Society. 

JUVENILE. 
Boone,  Daniel,  Adventures  of. 
Boy's  Manual. 

Cameron's  Farmer's  Daughter. 
Child's  Delight. 
Copley's  Early  Friendships 
Copley's  Poplar  Giove. 
Cortes,  Adventures  of. 
De  Foe's  Robinson  Crusoe. 
Evans's  Joan  of  Arc. 

"       Evenings  with  the  Chroniclers. 
Guizot's  Young  Student. 
Girl's  Manual. 
Holyday  Tales. 
Howitt's  Love  and  Money. 

"         Work  and  Wages. 

"        Little  Coin,  much  Care. 

"         Which  is  the  Wiser? 

"         Who  shall  be  Greatest 

"        Hope  on,  Hope  ever. 

"        Strive  and  Thrive. 

"         Sowing  and  Reaping. 

"        No  Sense  like  Common  Sense. 

"        Alice  Franklin. 
Jerram's  Child's  Story-Book. 


Applcton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 


Looking-Glass  for  the  Mind. 
Lucy  and  Arthur 
Log  Cabin,  or  World  before  You. 
Martineau's  Crofton  Boys. 

"  Peasant  and  Prince. 

Marryat's  Masterman  Ready. 
Old  Oak  Tree. 
Prize  Story  Book. 
Pratt's  Du  wirings  of  Genius. 
Sandham's  Twin  Sisters. 
Smith,  Capt.,  Adventures  oC 
Sherwood's  Duty  is  Safety. 

•'  Jack  the  Sailor. 

"  Think  before  yon  Act. 

Taylor's  Young  Islandeis. 

ery  Little  Tales. 
Youth's  Book  of  Nature. 

MEDICAL. 
Chavasse's  Advice  to  Mothers. 
Hall's  Principles  of  Diagnosis. 
Smith  on  Nervous  System. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Arthur's  Tired  of  Housekeeping. 
Austin's  German  Writers. 
Carly'e's  Heroes,  Hero  Worship. 
Cotton's  Exiles  of  Siberia. 
D'Israeli's  Curiosities  of  Literature. 
Deleuze  on  Animal  Magnetism. 
Ellis's  Mothers  of  England. 

"      Wives  of  England. 

"      Daughters  of  England. 

"      Women  of  England. 

"      First  Impressions. 

"      Danger  of  Dining  Out. 

"      Somervllle  Hall. 
Embury's  Nature's  Gems. 
Foster's  Miscellanies. 

"        Christian  Moraft. 
Goldsmith's  Vicar  of  Wakefield. 

"  Essays. 

Johnson's  Rasselas. 
Lover's  Handy  Andy. 

"       £.  s.  d. — Treasure  Trove. 
Maxwell's  Hector  O'Halloran. 
More's  Domestic  Tales. 

"      Rural  Tales. 
Pure  Gold. 
Sinclair's  Scotland  and  Scotch. 

''         Shetland  and  Shetlanders. 
St.  Pierre's  Paul  and  Virginia. 
Taylor's  Physical  Theory  of  Another  Life. 
Useful  Letter-Writer. 
Woman's  Worth. 

POETRY. 

Burns's  Poetical  Works. 
Cowper's  " 

Gems  from  American  Poets. 
Hemans's  Poetical  Works. 

".        Songs  of  the  Affections. 
Lewis's  Records  of  the  Heart. 
Milton's  Poetical  Works. 
"        Paradise  Lost. 
"  "        Regained 

Moore's  Lallah  Rookh. 
Pollok's  Course  of  Time. 
Scott's  Poetical  Works. 
"      Lady  of  the  Lake. 
"      Marmion. 

"      La/  of  the  Last  Minstrel. 
Bouthey's  Poetical  Works. 
Thomson's  S»asons. 
Token  of  Affection,  by  various  writers 
"        Friendship. 


Token  of  Love. 

"      the  Heart. 

"        Remembrance. 
Young's  Night  Thoughts. 

RELIGIOUS. 
A  Kempis's  Imitation  of  Christ. 
Anthon's  Catechism  on  Homilies. 
Beaven's  Help  to  Catechising. 
Bible  Expositor. 
Book  of  Common  Prayer. 
Burnet's  Hist,  of  Reformation. 

"        Exposition  of  XXXIX.  Artic.es. 
Bradley's  Practical  Sermons. 

"        Sermons  at  Clapham  and  Glasbon*. 
Churton's  Early  English  Church. 
Christmas  Bells. 
Cruden's  Concordance,  N.  T. 
Clarke'6  Scripture  Promises. 
Evans's  Rectory  of  Valehead 
Faber  on  Election. 
Gresley  on  Preaching. 

"       English  Churchman. 
Hare's  Sermons. 
Hooker's  Works. 
James's  True  Christian. 

"       Widow  Directed. 

"       Young  Man  from  Home. 

"        Christian  Professor. 

"        Anxious  Inquirer  after  Salvation. 

"       Happiness,  its  Nature  and  Source* 
Kip's  Double  Witness. 
Kingsley's  Sacred  Choir. 
Lyra  Apostolica. 
Magee  on  Atonement. 
Manning  on  Unity  of  the  Church. 
Marshall's  Notes  on  Episcopacy. 
More's  Private  Devotion. 

"     Practical  Piety. 
Maurice's  Kingdom  of  Christ. 
Newman's  Parochial  Seimons. 

"  Sermons  on  Subjects  of  the  Dlf 

Ogilby  on  Lay-Baptism, 

"      Lectures  on  the  Church. 
Palmer  on  the  Church. 
Paget's  Tales  of  the  Village. 
Pearson  on  the  Creed. 
Philip's  Devotional  Guides. 

"       The  Hannahs. 

"      The  Marys. 

"       The  Marthas. 

"       The  Lydias. 

"      Love  of  the  Spirit. 
Sherlock's  Practical  Christian. 
Smith  on  Scripture  and  Geology. 
Spencer's  Christian  Instructed. 
Spincke's  Manual  of  Devotion. 
Sprague's  Lectures  to  Young  People 

"         True  and  False  Relig;on. 
Sutton's  Learn  to  Live. 
'       Learn  to  Die. 
"       On  Sacrament. 
Stuart's  Letters  to  Godchild. 
Taylor  on  Episcopacy. 

"   .^Golden  Grove. 

"       Spiritual  Christianity 
Wayland's  Human  Responsibility 
Wilson's  Sacra  Privata. 
Wilberforce's  Communicant's  Manual. 

VOYAGES  AND  TRAVELS. 

Cooloy's  American  in  Egypt. 
Olmsted's  Whaling  Voyage. 
Silliman's  Ameiican  Scenery 
Southgate'e  Turkey  and  Persia. 


Applcton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

A  KEMPIS— OF  THE   IMITATION  OF  CHRIST: 

Four  books  by  Thomas  a  Kempis.     One  elegant  volume,  16mo.     $1  00. 

"The  author  of  this  invaluablo  work  was  born  about  the  year  1380,  and  has  always  been 
honoured  by  the  Church  for  his  eminent  sanctity.  Of  the  many  pious  works  composed  by  him, 
nis  '  Imitation  of  Christ'  (being  collections  of  his  devotional  thoughts  and  meditations  on  impor- 
tant practical  subjects,  together  'vith  a  separate  treatise  on  the  Holy  Communion)  is  the  most 
celebrated,  and  has  ever  been  admired  ana  vaiued  oy  devout  Christians  of  every  name.  It  has 
passed  through  numerous  editions  and  translations,  the  first  of  which  into  English  is  said  to  have 
been  made  by  the  illustrious  Lady  Margaret,  mother  of  King  Henry  VII.  Messrs.  Applnton's 
very  beautiful  edition  is  a  reprint  from  the  last  English,  the  translation  of  which  was  chiefly 
copied  from  one  printed  at  London  in  1677  It  deserves  to  be  a  companion  of  the  good  Hishop 
Wilson's  Sacra  Privata. — Banner  of  the  Cross. 

AMERICAN  POETS.— GEMS    FROM    AMERICAN  POETS. 

One  volume,  32mo.,  frontispiece,  gilt  leaves,  37  1-2  cents. 
Forming    one   of  the    series    of    "  Miniature    Classical   Library." 
Contains   selections  from  nearly    one    hundred  writers,  among  which  are — 
Bryant,    Halleck,    Longfellow,    Percival,    Whittier,    Sprague,    Brainend, 
Dana,  Willis,  Pinkney,  Allston,  Hillhouse,  Mrs.  Sigourney,  L.  M.  David- 
son, Lucy  Hooper,  Mrs.  Embury,  Mrs.  Hale,  etc.  etc 

ANTHON.-CATECHISMS   ON   THE    HOMILIES  OF  THE 

CHURCH, 

18mo.  paper  cover,  6  1-4  cents,  $4  per  hundred. 

CONTENTS. 

I.     Of  the  Misery  of  Mankind.  III.     Of  the  Passion  of  Christ. 

IT.     Of  the  Nativity  of  Christ.  IV.     Of  the  Resurrection  of  Christ. 

By  HENRY  ANTHON,  P.  D.,  Rector  of  St.  Mark's  Church,  New  York. 

This  little  volume  forms  No.  9,  of  a  Beries  of  ".Tracts  on  Christian  Doctrine  and  Practieo," 
now  in  courso  of  publication  under  the  supervision  of  Rev.  Dr.  Anthon. 

AUSTIN— FRAGMENTS    FROM    GERMAN    PROSE 
WRITERS. 

Translated  by    Sarah   Austin,  with    Biographical    Sketches  of  the  Author. 
One  handsomely  printed  volume,  12mo.     $1  25. 

ARTHUR-TIRED  OF  HOUSE-KEEPING 

By  T.  S.  Arthur,  author  of  "  Insubordination,"  etc.  etc.     One  volume,  18mo, 
frontispiece,  37  1-2  cents. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of"  Tales  for  the  People  and  their  Children." 
Contents. — I.  Going  to  House-keeping. — II.  First  Experiments. — IIL 
Morning  Calls. — IV.  First  Demonstrations. — V.  Trouble  with  Servants. — VI. 
A  New  One.— VII.  More  Trouble.— VIII.'  A  True  Friend.— IX.  Another 
Powerful  Demonstration. — X.  Breaking  up. — XL  Experiments  in  Boarding 
and  Taking  Boarder. — XII.  More  Sacrifices. — XIII.  Extracting  Good  from 
Evil. — XIV.  Failure  of  the  First  Experiments. — XV.  The  New  Boarding- 
house.— XVI.  Trouble  in  Earnest.— XVII.  Sickness.— XVIII.  Another 
Change. — XIX.    Conclusion. 

BEAVEN.-A    HELP   TO   CATECHISING. 

For  the  use  of  Clergymen,  Schools,  and  Private  Families.      By  James  Bea 
ven,  D.  D.,  Professor  of  Theology  at  King's  College,  Torrnto.     Revised 
and  adapted   to  the  use  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  United 
States.     By  Henry  Anthon,  D.  D.,  Rector  of  St.  Mark's  Church,  N.  Y. 
18mo.,  paper  cover,  6  1-4  cents,  $4  per  hundred. 

Forming  No.  1  of  a  series  of  "Tracts  on  Christian  Doctrine  and  Practice,"  now  in  eouraa  V 
publication  umler  the  superintendence  of  Rev.  Dr  Ambon. 


Apph  ton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

BIBLE    EXPOSITOR. 

Confirmation  of  the  Truth  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  from  the  Observations  ol 
recent  Travellers,  illustrating  the  Manners,  Customs,  and  Places  referred  to 
in  the  Bible.  Published  under  the  direction  of  the  Society  for  the  Promo 
tion  of  Christian  Knowledge,  London.  Illustrated  with  90  cuts.  On« 
volume,  12mo.,  75  cents. 

EXTRACT    FROM    PREFACE. 

*'  The  Holy  Scriptures  contain  many  passages  full  of  importance  and  beauty,  but  not  generally 
understood,  because  they  contain  allusions  to  manners  and  customs,  familiar  indeed  to  those  to  whor» 
they  were  originally  addressed,  but  imperfectly  known  to  us.  In  order  to  obviate  this  difficulty 
this  volume  is  now  presented  to  the  public,  consisting  of  extracts  from  the  narratives  of  travo. 
lers  who  have  recorded  the  customs  of  the  oriental  nations,  from  whom  we  learn  that  some  usagei 
were  retained  among  them  to  this  day,  such  as  existed  at  the  times  when  the  Scriptures  were 
written,  and  that  their  manners  are  in  many  instances  little  changed  since  the  patriarchal  times. 
The  compiler  of  this  volume  trusts  that  it  may  be  the  means,  under  God's  providence,  of  leading 
unlearned  readers  to  a  more  general  acquaintance  with  Eastern  customs,  and  assist  them  to  a 
clearer  perception  of  the  propriety  and  beauty  of  the  illustrations  so  often  drawn  from  them  in  the 
Bible." 

BOOK   OF   COMMON   PRAYER; 

And  Administration  of  the  Sacraments  and  other  Rites  and  Ceremonies  of 
the  Church,  according  to  the  use  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the 
United  States  of  America,  together  with  the  Psalter  or  Psalms  of  David. 
Illustrated  with  six  steel  engravings,  rubricated,  18mo.  size,  in  various 
bindings. 

Morocco,  extra  gilt  leaves,  $2  25.  With  clasp,  do.,  $3  00.  Imitation  of  Morocco,  gilt 
leaves,  $1  50.  Plain  do.,  $1  00.  Without  rubrics,  in  Morocco,  extra,  $2  00.  Imitation  do., 
$1  25.  Sheep,  plain,  37  1-2  cents.  It  may  also  be  had  in  rich  silk  velvet  binding,  mounted  with 
gold, gilt  borders,  clasp, &c,  price  $8  00. 

A  very  superior  edition,  printed  in  large  type,  from  the  new  authorized  edition,  is  nearly 
ready.     It  will  be  embellished  with  choice  steel  engravings  from  designs  by  Overbook. 

BOONE— ADVENTURES  OF  DANIEL  BOONE, 

The  Kentucky  Rifleman.  By  the  author  of  "  Uncle  Philip's  Conversations." 
One  volume,  18mo.  37  1-2  cents. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of   "A  Library  for  my  Young  Countrymen." 
"  It  is  an  excellent  narrative,  written  in  a  plain,  familiar  style,  and  sets  forth  the  character  and 

wild  adventures  of  the  hero  of  the  Kentucky  wilderness  in  a  very  attractive  light.    The  boys  will 

all  bo  in  an  agony  to  read  it." — Com.  Adv. 

BOYS'   MANUAL. 

Comprising  a  Summary  View  of  the  Studies,  Accomplishments,  and  Princi- 
ples of  Conduct,  best  suited  for  promoting  Respectability  and  Success  in 
Life.     1  vol.  18mo.     50  cents. 

BRADLEY.-FAMILY    AND    PARISH    SERMONS. 

Preached  at  Clapham  and  Glasbury.  By  the  Rev.  Charles  Bradley.  From 
the  seventh  London  edition,  two  volumes  in  one,8vo.     $1  25. 


PRACTICAL  SERMONS 


For  every  Sunday  throughout  the  year  and  principal  holydays.     Two  volumes 

of  English  edition  in  one  8vo      $1  50. 

55=  The  above  two  volumes  may  be  bound  together  in  one.     Price  $2  50. 

The  Sermons  of  this  Divine  are  much  admired  for  thuir  plain,  yet  chaste  and  elegant  style; 
they  will  be  found  admirably  adapted  for  family  reading  and  preaching,  where  no  pastor  is  located. 
Recommendations  might  be  given,  if  space  would  admit,  from  several  of  our  Bishops  and  Clergy- 
alsofrom  Ministers  of  various  denominations. 

The  following  are  a  few  of  the  English  and  American  critical  opinions  of  their  merit: — 

"  Bradley's  ityle  is  sententious,  pithy,  and  colloquial.  He  is  simple  without  being  quaint, 
sad  he  almost  holds  conversation  with  his  hearers,  without  descending  from  the  dignity  of  the 
■acred  chair."— Eclectic  Review. 

"  We  earnestly  desire  that  every  pulpit  may  ever  be  the  vehicle  of  discourses  as  judicious  ana 
practical,  as  scriptural  and  devout,  as  these." — Christian  Observer. 

"  The  style  is  so  simple  that  the  most  unlearned  can  understand  them ;  the  matter  so  instroc 
tive  that  the  best  informed  can  learn  something ;  the  spirit  so  fervent  that  the  most  engaged 
Christian  can  be  animated  and  warmed  by  thoir  perusal  "—Christian  Witnew. 

1 


sippleton  .  i         *ogut  of  Valuable  Publications 


BURNET.— THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION 

Of  the  Church  of  England,   by   Gilbert   Burnet,  D.  D.,   late  Lord  Bishop  ol 

Salisbury — with  the  Collection  of  Records  and   a  copious  Index,  revise. 

and   corrected,    with   additional    Notes    and    a  Preface,    by   the    Rev.    E 

Nares,  D.  D.,late  Professor  of  Modern  History  in  the  University  of  Oxford 

Illustrated  with  a  Frontispiece  and  twenty-three  engraved  Portraits,  form 

ing  four  elegant  8vo.  volumes.     $8  00. 

A  cheap  edition  is  printed,  containing  the  History  in  three  vols,  without  the 

Records — which  form  the  fourth  vol.  of  the  above.     Price,  in  boards,  $2  50. 

To  the  student  either  of  civil  or  religious  history,  no  epoch  can  be   of  more  importance  than 

that  of  the  Reformation  in  England.     The  History  of  Bishop  Burnet  is  one  of  the  most  celebrated 

and  bv  far  the  most  frequently  quoted  of  any  that  has  been  written  of  this  great  event.     Upon  tha 

original  publication  of  the  first  volume,  it  was  received  in  Great  Britain  with  the  loudest  and 

most  extravagant  encomiums.     The  author  received  the  thanks  of  both  Houses  of  .Parliament, 

and  was  requested  by  them  to  continue  the  work.     In  continuing  it,  he  had  the  assistance  of  the 

most  learned  and  eminent  divines  of  his  time;  and  he  confesses  his  indebtedness   for  important 

aid  to  Lloyd,  Tillotson,and  Stillinglleet,  three  of  the  greatest  of  England's  Bishops. 

The  present  edition  of  this  great  work  has  been  edited  with  laborious  care  by  Dr.  Niires,  who 
professes  to  have  corrected  important  errors  into  which  the  author  fell,  and  to  have  made  such 
improvements  in  the  order  of  the  work  as  will  render  it  far  more  useful  to  tho  reader  or  historical 
student.  Preliminary  explanations,  full  and  sufficient  to  the  clear  understanding  of  the  author, 
are  given,  and  marginal  references  are  made  throughout  the  book,  so  as  greatly  to  facilitate  and 
lender  accurate  its  consultation.  It  will  of  course  find  a  place  in  every  theologian's  libraiy — and 
will,  by  no  means,  we  trust,  be  confined  to  that  comparatively  limited  sphere — V.  Y.  Tribune. 

BURNET.-AN  EXPOSITION  OF  THE  XXXIX  ARTICLES 

Of  the  Church  of  England.     By  Gilbert  Burnet,  D.  D  ,  late  Bishop  of  Salisbury. 
With  an  Appendix,  containing  the  Augsburg  Confession,  Creed  of  Pope 
Pius  IV.,  &c.     Revised  and  corrected,  with  copious  Notes  and  Additional 
References,  by  the  Rev.  James  R.  Page,  A.  M.      One  handsome  8vo.  vol- 
ume.    $2  00. 
The  editor  has  given  to  our  clergy  and  our  students  in  theology  an  edition  ofthis  work,  which 
must  necessarily  supersede  every  other,  and  we  feel  he  deserves  well  at  the  hands  of  the  Church, 
which  he  has  so  materially  served. —  Church  of  England  Quarterly  Review. 

BURNS— THE  COMPLETE  POETICAL  WORKS 

Of  Robert  Burns,  with   Explanatory  and  Glossarial  Notes,  and  a  Life  of  the 
Author,  by  James  Currie,  M.  D.,  illustrated  with  six  steel  engravings,  one 
volume,  16mo.     $1  25. 
Forming  one  of  the  series  of  "  Cabinet  Edition  of  Standard   British   Poets." 

This  is  the  most  complete  American  edition  of  Burns.  It  contains  the  whole  of  the  poetry  com- 
prised in  the  edition  lately  edited  by  Cunningham,  as  well  as  some  additional  pieces  ;  and  such 
notes  have  been  added  as  are  calculated  to  illustrate  the  manners  and  customs  of  Scotland,  so  as 
to  render  the  whole  more  intelligible  to  the  English  reader. 

He  owes  nothing  to  the  poetry  of  other  lands — he  is  the  offspring  of  the  soil :  he  is  as  natural 
to  Scotland  as  the  heath  is  to  her  hills — his  variety  is  equal  to  his  originality  ;  his  humour,  his 
gayety,  his  tenderness  and  his  pathos,  come  all  in  a  breath  ;  they  come  freely,  for  they  come  of 
their  own  accord  ;  the  contrast  is  never  offensive  ;  the  comic  slides  easily  into  the  serious,  the 
serious  into  the  tender,  and  the  tender  into  the  pathetic—  Mian  Cunningham. 

CAMERON— THE    FARMER'S   DAUGHTER: 

A  Tale  of  Humble  Life,  by  Mrs.  Cameron,  author  of  "  Emma  and  Her  Nurse," 

"  the  Two  Mothers,"  etc.,  etc.,  one  volume,  18mo.,  frontispiece.    37  1-2  cts. 

Wo  welcome,  in  this  little  volume,  a  valuable  addition  to  the  excellent  series  of  "  Tales  far 

the  People  and  their  Children."     The  story  conveys  high  moral  truths,  in  a  most  attractive  form 

— Hunt's  Merchant's  Mag. 

CARLYLE—  ON    HEROES,  HERO   WORSHIP, 

And  the  Heroic  in  History.  Six  Lectures,  reported  with  Emendations  and  Ad- 
ditions, by  Thomas  Carlyle,  author  of  the  "French  Revolution,"  "Sartor 
Resartus,"  &c.    Elegantly  printed  in  one  vol.  12mo.    Second  edition.     $1. 

CHILD'S    DELIGHT; 

A  Gift  for  the  Young.  Edited  by  a  lady.  One  volume  small  4to.  Embel- 
lished with  six  steel  Engravings  coloured  in  the  most  attractive  style. 

This  is  the  gem  of  the  season.  In  stylo  of  embellishment  and  originality  of  matter,  it  standi 
uut.e.     We  cordially  recommend  the  volume  to  our  juvenile  friends. —  U.  S.  Qaictte, 


Appleton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications 

CHURTON.— THE  EARLY  ENGLISH  CHURCH; 

Or,  Christian  History  of  England  in  early  British,  Saxon,  and  Norman  Times. 
By  the  Rev.  Edward  Churton,  M.  A  With  a  Preface  by  the  Right  Rev. 
Bishop  Ives.     Onevol.l6mo.     $1  00. 

The  following  delightful  pages  place  before  us  some  of  the  choicest  examples — both  clerical 
and  lay— of  the  true  Christian  spirit  in  the  EARLY  ENGLISH  CHURCH.  In  truth,  those  pago* 
we  crowded  with  weighty  lessons.     *    *     *     Extract  from  Editor's  Preface. 

CLARKE.— SCRIPTURE    PROMISES 

Vnder  their  proper  heads,  representing  the  Blessings  Promised,  the  Duties  to 
which  Promises   are  made.     By  Samuel  Clarke,  D.  D.     Miniature  size, 
37  1-2  cents. 
In  this  edition  every  passage  of  Scripture  has  been  compared  and  verified.     The  volume  is 

like  an  arranged  museum  of  gems,  and  precious  stones,  and  pearls  of  inestimable  value.     Th4 

divine  promises  comprehend  a  rich  and  endless  vaiiety. — Dr  Wardlaw. 

COOLEY— THE    AMERICAN    IN    EGYPT. 

With  Rambles  through  Arabia-Petraea  and  the  Holy  Land,  during  the  years 
1839-40.  By  James  Ewing  Cooley.  Illustrated  with  numerous  steel  En 
gravings,  also  Etchings  and  Designs  by  Johnston.  One  handsome  volume, 
octavo,  of  610  pages.     $2  00. 

No  other  volume  extant  gives  the  reader  so  true  a  picture  of  what  he  would  be  likely  to  see 
*nd  meet  in  Egypt.  No  other  book  is  more  practical  and  plain  in  its  picture  of  precisely  what 
the  traveller  himself  will  meet.  Other  writers  have  one  account  to  give  of  their  journey  on  paper, 
and  another  to  relate  in  conversation.  Mr.  Cooley  has  but  one  story  for  the  fireside  circle  and 
the  printed  page. — Brother  Jonathan. 

CHAVASSE.-ADVICE    TO    MOTHERS 

On  the  Management  of  their  Offspring,  during  the  periods  of  Infancy,  Child- 
hood, and  Youth,  by  Dr.  Pye  Henry  Chavasse,  Member  of  the  Royal  Col- 
lege of  Surgeons,  London,  from  the  third  English  edition,  one  volume, 
l8mo.  of  180  pages.     Paper  25  cents,  cloth  37  1-2. 

All  that  I  have  attempted  is,  to  have  written  useful  advice,  in  a  clear  stylo,  stripped  of  oil 
technicalities,  which  mothers  of  every  station  may  understand.  *  *  *  I  have  adopted  a  con- 
versational form,  as  being  more  familiar,  and  as  an  easier  method  of  making  myself  understood. — 
Extract  from  Author' 's  Preface. 

COPLEY.— EARLY    FRIENDSHIPS. 

By  Mrs.  Copley.     With  a  frontispiece.     One  volume,  18mo.     37-12  cents. 

A  continuation  of  the  little  library  of  popular  works  for  "  the  People  and  their  Children."  lt» 
design  is,  by  giving  the  boarding-school  history  of  a  young  girl,  whose  early  education  had  been 
conducted  on  Christian  principles,  to  show  the  pre-eminent  value  of  those  principles  in  moulding 
and  adorning  the  character,  and  enabling  their  possessor  successfully  to  meet  the  temptations 
and  trials  of  life.     It  is  attractively  written,  and  full  of  interest. — Com.  Adv. 

COPLEY— THE  POPLAR  GROVE: 

Or,  little  Harry  and  his  Uncle  Benjamin.  By  Mrs.  Copley,  author  of"  Early 
Friendships,"  &c,  &c.     One  vol.  18mo.  frontispiece,  37  1-2  cents. 

An  excellent  little  story  this,  showing  how  sound  sense,  honest  principles,  and  intelligent 
industry,  not  only  advance  their  possessor,  but,  as  in  the  case  of  Uncle  Benjamin  the  gardener, 
enable  him  to  become  the  benefactor,  guide,  and  friend  of  relations  cast  down  from  a  loftier  spher* 
in  life, 'and,  but  for  him,  without  lesource.  It  is  a  tale  for  youth  of  all  classes,  that  cannot  be 
read  without  profit. — JY.  Y.  Amtrican. 

CORTES.— THE    ADVENTURES    OR. 

Ilernan  Cortes,  the  Conqueror  of  Mexico,  by  the  author  of  "Uncle  Philip'i 

Conversations,"  with  a  Portrait.     One  volume,  18mo.  37  1-2  cents, 
'orming  one  of  the  series  of  "  A  Library  for  my  Young  Count/ymen.' 

The  story  is  full  of  interest,  and  is  told  in  a  captivating  style.  Such  books  add  all  the  charm* 
of  romance  to  the  value  of  history. — Prov.  Journal. 

COTTON.— ELIZABETH;  OR,  THE  EXILES  OF  SIBERIA. 

By  Madame  Cotton.     Miniature  size,  31  1-4  cents. 
Forming  one  of  the  series  of  "  Miniature  Classical  Library." 
The  extensive  popularity  of  this  little  tale  U  well  known. 

6 


Applcton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

COWPER.— THE  COMPLETE  POETICAL  WORKS 

Of  William  Cowper,  Esq.,  including  the  Hymns  and  Translations  from  Mad 
Guion,  Milton,  &c,  and  Adam,  a  Sacred  Drama,  from  the  Italian  of  Bat- 
tista  Andreini,  with  a  Memoir  of  the  Author,  by  the  Rev.  Henry  Stebbing, 
A.  M.     One  volume,  16mo.,  800  pages,  $1  50,  pr  in  2  vols.  $1  75. 

Forming  one  of  the  Series  of  "  Cabinet  Edition  of  Standard  British  Poets." 

Morality  never  found  in  genius  a  more  devoted  advocate  than  Cowper,  nor  has  mora!  wisdom, 
in  its  plain  and  severe  precepts,  been  ever  more  successfully  combined  with  the  delicate  spirit  of 
poetry  than  in  his  works.  He  was  endowed  with  all  the  powers  which  a  poet  could  want  who 
»as  to  be  the  moralist  of  the  world— the  reprover,  but  not  the  satirist,  of  men — the  teacher  o/ 
•imple  truths,  which  were  to  be  rendered  gracious  without  endangering  their  simplicity. 

CRUDEN— CONCORDANCE  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 

By  Alexander  Cruden,  M.  A.,  with  a  Memoir  of  the  Author  by  W.  Youngman, 
Abridged  from  the  last  London  Edition,  by  Wm.  Patton,  D.  D.     Portrait. 
One  volume,  32mo.,  sheep,  50  cents. 
***  Contains  all  the  words  to  be  found  in  the  large  work  relating  to  the  New  Testament. 

DE  FOE— PICTORIAL  ROBINSON  CRUSOE. 

The  Life  and  Adventures  of  Robinson  Crusoe.  By  Daniel  De  Foe.  With  a 
Memoir  of  the  Author,  and  an  Essay  on  his  Writings,  with  upwards  of  300 
spirited  Engravings,  by  the  celebrated  French  artist,  Grandville  One 
elegant  volume,  octavo,  of  500  pages.     $1  75. 

Crusoe  has  obtained  a  ready  passport  to  the  mansions  of  the  rich,  and  the  cottages  of  the  poor, 
and  communicated  equal  delight  to  all  ranks  and  classes  of  the  community.  Few  works  have 
been  more  generally  read,  or  more  justly  admired  ;  few  that  have  yielded  such  incessant  amuse- 
ment, and,  at  tho  same  time,  have  developed  so  many  lessons  of  practical  instruction. — Sir  IValtcr 
Scott. 

The  Messrs.  Appleton  &  Co.,  of  New  York,  have  just  published  a  beautiful  edition  of  "The 
Life  and  Adventures  of  Robinson  Crusoe."  Not  the  miserable  abridgment  generally  circulated, 
but  De  Foe's  genuine  work,  Robinson  Crusoe  in  full  and  at  length,  a  story  which  never  palls  upon 
the  reader,  and  never  can  lose  its  popularity  while  the  English  language  endures. — Pcr.iuitjlcanian. 

D'ISRAELI.— CURIOSITIES    OF    LITERATURE, 

And  the  Literary  Character  illustrated,  by  I.  D'Israeli,  Esq.,  D.  C.  L.,  F.  S.  A. 
First  and  Second  Series.  The  Literary  Character,  illustrated  by  the  Histo- 
ry of  Men  of  Genius,  drawn  from  their  own  feelings  and  confessions,  by  I. 
D'Israeli,  Esq.  Curiosities  of  American  Literature,  compiled,  edited,  and 
arranged  by  Rev.  Rufus  W.  Griswold.  The  three  works  in  one  volume, 
large  8vo.     Price  $3  50. 

This  is  the  double  title  of  a  large  and  beautifully  printed  octavo  volume,  which  has  just  made 
hs  appearance  in  the  World  of  Letters.  With  the  first  part  every  body  is  already  familiar.  The 
deep  research,  the  evident  enthusiasm  in  his  subject,  and  the  light  and  pungent  humor  displayed 
by  D'Israeli  in  it,  are  the  delight  of  all  classes  of  readers,  and  will  undoubtedly  send  him  down  a 
•heerful  journey  to  posterity,  if  only  on  account  of  tfie  pleasant  company  in  which  he  has  managed 
»o  agreeably  to  introduce  himself.  The  other  portion  of  this  work — that  relating  to  the  Curiosi- 
ties of  American  Literature — is  entirely  new  to  the  public;  yet  we  shall  be  disappointed  if  it  is 
not  uirectly  as  popular  as  the  other.  Mr.  Griswold  has  performed  his  task  in  a  manner  highly 
creditable  to  his  taste,  while  displaying  most  favorably  his  industry,  tact,  and  perseverance. — Ye* 
York  Tribune. 

DE    LEUZE  —  PRACTICAL    INSTRUCTION    IN    ANIMAL 

Magnetism,  by  J.  P.  F.  De  Leuze,  translated  by  Thomas  C.  Hartshorn.  Re- 
vised edition,  with  an  Appendix  of  Notes  by  the  Translator,  and  Letteri 
from  eminent  Physicians  and  others,  descriptive  of  cases  in  the  U.  States. 
One  volume,  12mo.     $1  00. 

The  translator  of  this  work  has  certainly  presented  the  piofession  with  an  uncommonly  well 
digest  id  treatise,  enhanced  in  value  by  his  own  notes  and  the  corroborative  testimony  of  eminent 
9fcf»icians. — Boston  Med  $•  Surg.  Journal. 

7 


Appleton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 


ELLIS— THE  DAUGHTERS  CF  ENGLAND; 

Their  position   in   Society,  Character,   and   Responsihilities.     By  Mrs.  Ellis. 
In  one  handsome  volume,  12mo.,  cloth  gilt.     50  cents. 

ELLIS— THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND; 

Their  Social  Duties  and  Domestic  Hahits.     By  Mrs.  Ellis.     One  handsome 
volume,  12mo.,  cloth  gilt.     50  cents. 

ELLIS— THE  WIVES  OF  ENGLAND; 

Their  Relative  Duties,  Domestic  Influences,  and  Social  Obligations.     By  Mrs. 
Ellis.     One  handsome  volume,  12mo.,  cloth  gilt.     50  cents. 

ELLIS— THE  MOTHERS  OF  ENGLAND; 

Their  Influence  and  Responsibility.  By  Mrs.  Ellis.  One  handsome  volume, 
J2mo.,  cloth  gilt.  50  cents. 
This  is  an  appropriate  and  very  valuable  conclusion  to  the  series  of  works  on  the  subject  o( 
frmale  duties,  by  which  Mrs.  Ellis  has  pleased,  and  we  doubt  not  profited,  thousands  of  readers. 
Her  counsels  demand  attention,  not  only  by  their  practical,  sagacious  usefulness,  but  also  by  the 
riieek  and  modest  spirit  in  which  they  are  communicated. —  Watchman. 

ELLIS.-THE  MINISTER'S  FAMILY; 

Or  Hints  to  those  who  would  make  Home  happy.     By  Mrs.  Ellis.     One  vol- 
ume, 18mo.     37  1-2  cents. 

ELLIS— FIRST  IMPRESSIONS; 

Or  Hints  to  those  who  would  make  Home  happy.     By  Mis.  Ellis.     One  vol 
ume,  I8mo.     37  1-2  cents. 

ELLIS— DANGERS  OF  DINING  OUT; 

Or  Hints  to  those  who  would  make  Home  happy.     By  Mrs.  Ellis.     One  vol 
ume,  18mo.     37  1-2  cents. 

ELLIS— SOMERVILLE  HALL; 

Or  Hints  to  those  who  would  make  Home  happy.     By  Mrs.  Ellis.     One  vol- 
ume, 18mo.     37  1-2  cents. 
The  above  four  volumes  form  a  portion  of  series  of"  Tales  for  the  People  and  their  Children." 

"  To  wish  prosperity  to  such  books  as  these,  is  to  desire  the  moral  and  physical  welfare  of  the 
human  species." — Bath  Chronicle. 

EVANS— EVENINGS  WITH  THE  CHRONICLERS; 

Or  Uncle  Rupert's  Tales  of  Chivalry.     By  R.  M.  Evans.     With  seventeen 
illustrations.     One  volume,  16mo.,  elegantly  bound,  75  cents. 

This  would  have  been  a  volume  after  our  own  hearts,  while  we  were  younger,  and  it  ii 
ncarcely  less  so  now  when  we  are  somewhat  older.  It  discourses  of  thoso  things  which  iharmed 
all  of  us  in  early  youth — the  daring  deeds  of  the  Knights  and  Squires  of  feudal  warfare — the  true 
version  of  the  "  Chevy  Chase," — the  exploits  of  the  stout  and  stalwart  Warriors  of  England, 
Scotland,  and  Germany.  In  a  word,  it  is  an  attractive  book,  and  rendered  more  so  to  young  read- 
era  by  a  series  of  wood  engravings,  beautifully  executed. —  Courier  8[  Enquirer. 

EVANS— THE  HISTORY  OF  JOAN^OF  ARC. 

By  R.  M.  Evans,  author  of  "Evenings  with  the  Chroniclers,"  with  twenty- 
four  elegant  illustrations.  One  volume,  16mo.  Extra  gilt.  75  cents. 
In  the  work  before  us,  we  have  not  only  a  most  interesting  biography  of  this  female  prodigy, 
including  wh;it  she  was  and  what  she  accomplished,  but  also  a  faithful  account  of  the  relations 
that  exir'ed  between  England  and  France,  and  of  the  singular  state  of  things  that  marked  the 
period  when  this  wonderful  personage  appeared  upon  the  stage.  The  leading  incidents  of  hot 
?ife  are  related  with  exquisite  simplicity  and  touching  pathos  ;  and  you  cannot  repress  your  admi- 
ration for  her  heroic  qualities,  or  senrcely  repress  your  tears  in  view  of  her  ignominious  end.  To 
Vho  youthful  reader  we  heartily  recommend  this  volume. — Albany  Advertiser. 

8 


Appleton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 


EVANS -THE  RECTORY  OF  VALEHEAD; 

Or,  the  Records  of  a  Holy  Home.  By  the  Rev.  R.  W.  Evans.  From  the 
twelfth  English  edition.     One  volume,  16mo.     75  cents. 

Universally  and  cordially  do  we  recommend  this  delightful  volume  W6  bolieve  no  person 
could  read  this  work,  and  not  be  the  better  for  its  pious  and  touching  lessons.  It  is  a  pa"e  taken 
"rom  the  book  of  life,  and  eloquent  with  all  the  instruction  of  an  excellent  pattern  ;  it  is  a  com- 
mentary on  the  affectionate  warning,  "  Remember  thy  Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth."  We 
hnve  not  for  some  time  seen  a  work  we  could  so  deservedly  praise,  or  so  conscientiously  reconi- 
nibud  — Literary  Qaiette. 

EMBURY— NATURE'S  GEMS;  OR,AMERICAN  FLOWERS 

in  their  Native  Haunts.  By  Emma  C.  Embury.  With  twenty  plates  of  Plants 
carefully  colored  after  Nature,  and  landscape  views  of  their  Iocalitie-s, 
from  drawing^jtaken  on  the  spot,  by  E.  W.  Whitefield.  One  imperial  oc- 
tavo volume,  printed  on  the  finest  paper,  and  elegantiy  bound. 

This  beautiful  work  will  undoubtedly  form  a  "Gift-Book"  for  all  seasons  of  the  year.  It  is 
illustrated  with  twenty  colored  engravings  of  indigenous  flowers,  taken  from  drawings  made  on 
the  spot  where  they  were  found  ;  while  each  flower  is  accompanied  by  a  view  of  some  striking 
feature  of  American  scenery.  The  literary  plan  of  the  book  differs  entirely  from  that  of  any  other 
work  on  a  similar  subject  which  has  yet  appeared.  Each  plate  has  its  botanical  and  local  de- 
scription, though  the  chief  part  of  the  volume  is  composed  of  original  tales  and  poetry,  illustrative 
»fthe  sentiments  of  the  flowers,  or  associated  with  the  landscape.  No  pains  or  expense  has  been 
ared  in  the  michanical  execution  of  the  volume,  and  the  fact  that  it  is  purely  American  both 
in  its  graphic  and  literary  departments,  should  recommend  it  to  general  notice. 

EWBANK  —  HYDRAULICS  AND  MECHANICS. 

A  Descriptive  and  Historical  Account  of  Hydraulic  and  other  Machines  for 
raising  Water,  including  the  Steam  and  Fire  Engines,  ancient  and  modern  ; 
with  Observations  on  various  subjects  connected  with  the  Mechanic  Arts  ; 
including  the  Progressive  Development  of  the  Steam  Engine.  In  five 
books.  Illustrated  by  nearly  three  hundred  Engravings.  By  Thomas 
Ewbank.     One  handsome  volume  of  six  hundred  pages.     $3  50. 

This  is  a  highly  valuable  production,  replete  with  novelty  and  interest,  and  adapted  to  gratify 
equally  the  historian,  the  philosopher,  and  the  mechanician,  being  the  result  of  a  protracted  and 
extensive  research  among  the  arcana  of  historical  and  scientific  literature. — Nat.  Intelligencer. 

FABER  —  THE  PRIMITIVE  DOCTRINE  OF  ELECTION; 

Or,  an  Historical  Inquiry  into  the  Ideality  and  Causation  of  Scriptural  Elec- 
tion, as  received  and  maintained  in  the  primitive  Church  of  Christ.  By 
George  Stanley  Faber,  B.  D.,  author  of  "Difficulties  of  Romanism,' 
"Difficulties  of  Infidelity,"  &c.     Complete  in  one  volume,  octavo.    $1  75. 

Mr.  Faber  verifies  his  opinion  by  demonstration.  We  cannot  pay  a  higher  respect  to  his  work 
than  by  recommending  it  to  all. — Church  of  England  Quarterly  Review. 

FALKNER—  THE  FARMER'S  MANUAL. 

A   Practical  Treatise  on   the   Nature   and   Value  of  Manures,   founded    from 
Experiments  on  various   Crops,  with  a  brief  Account  of  the  most  Recent 
Discoveries  in  Agricultural  Chemistry.     By  F.  Falkner  and  the  Author  of 
"  British  Husbandry."     12mo.,  paper 'cover  31  cents,  cloth  50  cents. 
It  is  the  object,  of  the  present  treatise  to  explain  the  nature  and  constitution  of  manures  gene- 
rally— to  point  out  the  means  of  augmenting  the  quantity  and  preserving  the  fertilizing  power  of 
farm-yard  manure,  tho  various  sources  of  mineral  and  other  artificial  manures,  and  the  cause  of 
thsir  frequent  failuies. — iuthor's  Preface. 

FARMER'S  TREASURE,  THE  ; 

Containing  "  Falkner's  Farmer's  Manual,"  and  "  Smith's  Productive  Farm- 
ing," bound  together.     12mo.,  75  cents. 

FOSTER— ESSAYS  ON  CHRISTIAN  MORALS, 

Experimental  and  Practical.  Originally  delivered  as  Lectures  at  Broa&mead 
Chapel,  Bristol.  By  John  Foster,  author  of  "  Essays  on  Decision  of  Char- 
acter,   etc.     One  volume,  18mo.,  50  cents. 

This  volume  contains  twenty-six  Essays,  some  of  which  are  of  the  highest  order  of  sublimit) 
and  exisilonce. 

9 


Appleton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

FOSTER— BIOG.,  LIT.,  AND  PHIL.  ESSAYS, 

Contributed  to  the  Eclectic  Review,  by  John  Foster,  author  of"  Essays  on  De- 
cision of  Human  Character,"  etc.     One  volume,  12mo.,  $1  25. 

These  contributions  well  deserve  to  class  with  tliose  of  Macauley,  Jeffrey,  and  Sidney  Smith, 
in  the  Edinburgh  Review.  They  contain  the  productions  of  a  more  original  and  profound  thinker 
than  either,  whose  master-mind  has  exerted  a  stronger  influence  upon  his  readers,  and  has  left  a 
deeper  impression  upon  our  literature  ;  and  whose  peculiar  merit  it  was  to  present  the  doctrines 
and  moralities  of  the  Christian  faith,  under  a  form  and  aspect  which  redeemed  the  familiar  from 
triteness,  and  threw  a  charm  and  freshness  about  the  severest  truths. — London  Patriot. 

FROST— THE  BOOK  OF  THE  NAVY: 

Comprising  a  General  History  of  the  American  Marine,  and  particular  accounts 
of"  all  the  most  celebrated  Nava.  Battles,  from  the  Declaration  of  Independ 
ence  to  the  present  time,  compiled  from  the  best  authorities.  By  John 
Frost,  LL.  D.  With  an  Appendix,  containing  Naval  Songs,  Anecdotes, 
&c.  Embellished  with  numerous  original  Engravings,  and  Portraits  of 
distinguished  Naval  Commanders.     One  volume,  12mo.,  $1  00. 

This  is  the  only  popular  and  yet  authentic  single  view  which  we  have  of  the  naval  exploits  o! 
our  country,  arranged  with  good  taste  and  set  forth  in  good  language  — U.  S.  Gazette. 

This  volume  is  dedicated  to  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  and  is  altogether  a  very  faithful  and 
attractive  historical  record.  It  deserves,  and  will  doubtless  have,  a  very  extended  circulation 
—Nat.  Intelligencer. 

FROST— THE  BOOK  OF  THE  ARMY: 

Comprising  a  General  Military  History  of  the  United  States,  from  the  period 
of  the  Revolution  to  the  present  time,  with  particular  accounts  of  all  the 
most  celebrated  Battles,  compiled  from  the  best  authorities.  By  Johr 
Frost,  LL.  D.  Illustrated  with  numerous  Engravings,  and  portraits  & 
distinguished  Commanders.     One  volume,  12mo.,  $1  25. 

This  work  gives  a  complete  history  of  military  operations,  and  their  causes  and  effects,  fron 
the  opening  of  the  Revolution  to  the  close  of  the  last  war,  with  graphic  descriptions  of  the  cela 
brated  battles  and  characters  of  the  leading  generals.  It  is  illustrated  with  numerous  portraits  oi 
steel  and  views  of  battles,  from  original  drawings  by  Darley  and  others.  The  importance  of  pop 
ular  works  of  the  class  to  which  this  and  the  "  Book  of  the  Navy  "  belong,  must  be  obvious  to  al 
who  recognize  the  value  of  national  recollections  in  preserving  a  true  national  spirit. 

FRESENIUS— CHEMICAL  ANALYSIS. 

Elementary  Instruction  in  Chemical  Analysis.     By  Dr.  C.  Rhemigius  Frese- 
nius.     With  a  Preface  by  Prof.  Liebig.     Edited  by  I.  Lloyd  Bullock.    One 
neat  volume,  12mo.     Paper,  75  cents  ;  cloth,  $1  00. 
This  Introduction  to  Practical  Chemistry  is  admitted  to  bo  the  most  valuable  Elementary  In- 
structor in  Chemical  Analysis  fo  scientific  operatives,  and  for  pharmaceutical  chemists,  which  has 
ever  been  presented  to  the  public. 

GUIZOT.-THE  YOUNG  STUDENT; 

\)r,  Ralph  and  Victor.  By  Madame  Guizot.  From  the  French,  by  Samuel 
Jackson.  One  volume  of  500  pages,  with  illustrations.  Price  75  cents,  or 
in  three  volumes,  $1  12. 

This  volume  of  biographical  incidents  is  a  striking  picture  of  juvenile  life.  To  all  that  num- 
berless class  of  youth  who  are  passing  through  their  literary  education,  whether  in  boarding- 
schools  or  academies,  in  the  collegiate  course,  or  the  preparatory  studies  connected  with  them,  we 
know  nothing  more  piecisely  fitted  to  meliorate  their  character,  and  direct  their  course,  subordi- 
nate to  the  higher  authority  of  Christian  ethics,  than  this  excellent  delineation  of  "  The  Young 
Student,"  by  Madame  Guizot.  *  *  *  The  French  Academy  were  correct  in  their  judgment, 
when  lliey  pronounced  Madame  Guizot's  Student  the  best  book  of  the  year.— Courier  fy  Enquirer. 

GUIZOT.-GENERAL  HISTORY  OF  CIVILIZATION 

In  Europe,  from  the  full  of  the  Roman  Empire/ to  the  French  Revolution. 
Translated  from  the  French  of  M.  Guizot,  Professor  of  History  to  la  Facul- 
te  des  Lettres  of  Paris,  and  Minister  of  Public  Instruction.  Third  Ameri- 
can edition,  with  Notes,  by  C.  S.  Henry,  D.  D.  One  handsome  volume, 
12-no.,  $1  00. 

M.  Guizot  in  his  instructive  Locturos  has  given  us  an  epitome  of  modern  history,  distinguished 
by  all  the  merit  which,  in  another  department,  renders  Blacltstone  a  subject  of  such  peculiar  and 
mibounded  praise — a  work  closely  condense  t,  including  nothing  useless,  omitting  nothing  essen 
tial :  written  with  graee,  aud  conceived  and  arranged  with  consummate  ability. — Bost.  Traveller 

10 


Appleto?i's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

GRISWOLD— CURIOSITIES  OF  AMER.  LITERATURE: 

Compiled,  edited,  and  arranged   by  Rev.  Rufus  W.  Griswold.     See  D'Israeli 

GIRL'S  MANUAL: 

Comprising  a  summary  View  of  Female  Studies,  Accomplishments,  and  Prin 
ciples  of  Conduct.     Frontispiece.     One  volume,  18mo  ,  50  cents. 

GOLDSMITH-PICTORIAL  VICAR  OF  WAKEFIELD. 

The  Vicar  of  Wakefield.  By  Oliver  Goldsmith.  Illustrated  with  upwards  of 
100  engravings  on  wood,  making  a  beautiful  volume,  octavo,  of  300  pages. 
$1  25.     The  same,  miniature  size,  37  1-2  cents. 

We  love  to  turn  back  over  these  rich  old  classics  of  our  own  language,  and  re-juvenate  ouf- 
ielvcs  by  the  never-failing  associations  which  a  re-perusal  always  calls  up.  Let  any  one  who  has 
not  read  this  immortal  tale  for  fifteen  or  twenty  years,  try  the  experiment,  and  we  will  warrant 
that  he  rises  up  from  the  task — the  pleasure,  we  should  have  paid — a  happier  and  a  better  man. 
In  the  good  old  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  all  is  pure  gold,  without  dross  or  alloy  of  any  kind.  This 
much  we  have  said  to  our  last  generation  readers.  This  edition  of  the  work,  however,  we  take  it, 
was  got  up  for  the  benefit  of  tile  rising  generation,  and  we  really  envy  our  young  friends  the  plea- 
sure which  is  before  such  of  them  as  will  read  it  for  the  first  time. — Savannah  Republican. 

GOLDSMITH— ESSAYS  ON  VARIOUS  SUBJECTS, 

By  Oliver  Goldsmith.     Miniature  size,  37  1-2  cents. 

Forming  one  of  the  seiies  of"  Miniature  Classical  Library." 

GRESLEY— PORTRAIT  OF  A  CHURCHMAN, 

By  the  Rev.  W.  Gresley,  A.  M.  From  the  Seventh  English  edition.  On* 
elegant  volume,  16mo.,  75  cents. 

"  The  main  part  of  this  admirable  volume  is  occupied  upon  the  illustration  of  the  practical 
working  of  Church  principles  when  sincerely  received,  setting  forth  their  value  in  the  commerce  o( 
daily  life,  and  how  surely  they  conduct  those  who  embrace  them  in  the  safe  and  quiet  puth  of  holy 
life." 

GRESLEY— A  TREATISE  ON  PREACHING, 

In  a  Series  of  Letters  by  the  Rev.  W.  Gresley,  M.  A.  Revised,  with  Supple- 
mentary Notes,  by  the  Rev.  Benjamin  I.  Haight,  M.  A.,  Rector  of  All 
Saints'  Church,  New  York.     One  volume,  12mo.     $1  25. 

Advertisement. — Tn  preparing  the  American  edition  of  Mr.  Gresley's  valuable  Treatise,  a  few 
foot-notes  have  been  added  by  the  Editor,  which  are  distinguished  by  brackets.  The  more  extend- 
ed notes  at  the  end  have  been  selected  from  the  best  works  on  the  subject — and  which,  with  o»e 
or  two  exceptions,  are  not  easily  accessible  to  the  American  student. 

HAMILTON— THE  LIFE  OF  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON, 

Edited  by  his  son,  John  C.  Hamilton.     Two  volumes,  8vo.,  $5  00. 

We  cordially  recommend  the  perusal  and  diligent  study  of  these  volumes,  exhibiting,  as  tlioj 
do,  much  valuable  matter  relative  to  tbe  Revolution,  the  establishment  of  the  Federal  Constitu- 
tion, and  other  important  events  in  the  annals  of  our  country. — JV.  Y.  Review. 

HEMANS— THE  COMPLETE  POETICAL  WORKS 

Of  Felicia  Hemans,  printed  from  the  last  English  edition,  edited  by  her  Sister. 
Illustrated  with  6  steel  Engravings.  One  beautifully  printed  and  portable 
volume,  16mo.,  j|>         ,  or  in  two  volumes,  $ 

Of  this  highly  accomplished  poetess  it  has  been  truly  said,  that  of  all  her  sex  "  few  have  writ- 
ten so  much  and  so  well."  Although  her  writings  possess  an  energy  equal  to  their  high-toned 
beauty,  yet  are  they  so  pure  and  so  refined,  that  not  a  line  of  them  could  feeling  spare  or  delicacy- 
blot  fiom  herpages.  Her  imagination  was  rich,  chaste,  and  glowing.  Her  chosen  tli2mes  are  tba 
ttarile,  the  hearth-stone,  and  the  death-bed.  In  her  poems  of  Creur  de  Lion,  Ferdinand  of  Ara- 
fon,  and  Bernard  del  Carpio,  we  see  beneath  the  glowing  colors  with  which  she  clothes  her  irteua, 
the  feelings  of  a  woman's  heart.  Her  earlier  poems,  Records  of  Woman  and  Forest  Sanctuary, 
itand  unrivalled.     In  short,  her  works  will  ever  be  read  by  a  pious  and  enlightened  community. 

HEMANS— SONGS  OF  THE  AFFECTIONS, 

By  Felicia  Hemans.     One  volume,  32mo.,  gilt      31  cents. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of"  Miniature  Classical  Library." 

HARE— SERMONS  TO  A  COUNTRY  CONGREGATION, 

By  Augustus  William  Hare,  A.  M.,  late  Fellow  of  New  College,  and  Reotor  of 
Alton  Barnes.     One  volume,  royal  8vo.,  $2  25. 

11 


Appleton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

HALL— THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  DIAGNOSIS, 

By  Marshall  Hall,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  S.,  &c.     Second  edition,  with  many  improve- 
ments.    By  Dr.  John  A.  Sweet.     One  volume,  8vo.,  $2  00. 
This  work  was  published  in  accordance  with  the  desire  of  some  of  the  most  celebrated  physi- 
cians of  I  his  country,  who  were  anxious  that  it  should  be  brought  within  the  reach  of  all  classei 
t>{  medical  men,  to  whose  attention  it  offers  strong  claims  as  the  best  work  on  the  subject. 

HAZEN.— SYMBOLICAL  SPELLING-BOOK. 

Tl.c  Symbolical  Spelling-Book,  in  two  parts.  By  Edward  Hazen.  Contain- 
ing 268  engravings.     18  3-4  cents. 

This  work  is  used  in  upwards  of  one  thousand  different  schools,  and  pronounced  to  be  one  as* 
the  best  works  published. 

HODGE— THE  STEAM-ENGINE: 

Its  Origin  and  gradual  Improvement,  from  the  time  of  Hero  to  the  present  day, 
as  adapted  to  Manufactures,  Locomotion,  and  Navigation.  Illustrated  with 
48  Plates  in  full  detail,  numerous  wood  cuts,  &c.  By  Paul  R.  Hodge, 
C.  E.     One  volume  folio  of  plates,  and  letter-press  in  8vo.     $10  00. 

This  work  should  be  placed  in  the  "  Captain's  Office  "  of  every  steamer  in  our  country,  and 
also  with  every  engineer  to  whom  is  confided  the  control  of  the  engine.  From  it  they  would  de- 
rivo  all  the  information  which  would  enable  them  to  comprehend  the  caus*  and  effects  of  every 
ardinary  accident,  and  also  the  method  promptly  and  successfully  to  repair  any  injury,  and  to  rem- 
edy any  defect. 

HOLYDAY  TALES: 

Consisting  of  pleasing  Moral  Stories  for  the  Young.  One  volume,  square 
16nio.,  with  numerous  illustrations.     37  1-2  cents. 

This  is  a  most  capital  little  book.  The  stories  are  evidently  written  by  an  able  hand,  and  that 
too  in  an  exceedingly  attractive  style. — Spectator. 

HOOKER.-THE  COMPLETE  WORKS 

Of  that  learned  and  judicious  divine,  Mr.  Richard  Hooker,  with  an  account  of 

his  Life  and  Death.     By  Isaac  Walton.     Arranged  by  the  Rev.  John  Keble, 

M.  A.     First  American  from  the  last  Oxford  edition.     With  a  complete 

general  Index,  and  Index  of  the  texts  of  Scripture,  prepared  expressly  for 

this  edition.     Two  elegant  volumes,  8vo.,  $4  00. 

Contents. — The  Editor's  Preface  comprises  a  general  survey  of  the  former  edition  of  Hooker's 

Works,  with  Historical  Illustrations  of  the  period.     After  which  follows  the  Life  of  Hooker,  by 

Isaac  Walton.     His  chief  work  succeeds,  on  the  "  Laws  of  Ecclesiastical  Polity." 

It  commences  with  a  lengthened  Preface  designed  as  an  address  "  to  them  who  seek  the  refor- 
mation of  the  Laws  and  Orders  Ecclesiastical  of  the  Church  of  England."  The  discussion  is  divi- 
ded into  eight  books,  which  include  an  investigation  of  the  topics.  After  those  eight  books  of  the 
11  Laws  of  Ecclesiastical  Polity,"  follow  two  Sermons,  "The  certainty  and  perpetuity  of  Faith  in 
the  elect ;  especially  of  the  Prophet  Habakkuk's  faith  ;"  and  "  Justification,  Works,  and  how  the 
foundation  of  faith  is  overthrown."  Next  are  introduced  "  A  supplication  made  to  the  Council 
by  Master  Walter  Travers,"  and  "  Mr.  Hooker's  answer  to  the  supplication  that  Mr  Travers 
made  to  the  Council."  Then  follow  two  Sermons — "  On  the  nature  of  Pride,"  and  a  "  Remedy 
against  Sorrow  and  Fear."  Two  Sermons  on  part  of  the  epistle  of  the  Apostle  Jude  are  next  in- 
serted, with  a  prefatory  dedication  by  Henry  Jackson.  The  last  article  in  the  works  of  Mr.  Hooker 
is  a  Sermon  on  Prayer. 

The  English  edition  in  three  volumes  sells  at  $10  00.  The  American  is  an  exact  reprint,  at 
less  than  hall' the  price. 

HUDSON— THE  ADVENTURES  OF  HENRY  HUDSON, 

By  the  author  of  "Uncle  Philips  Conversations."  Frontispiece.  18mo., 
cloth.     37  cents. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of"  A  Library  for  my  Young  Countrymen." 
This  little  volume  furnishes  us,  from  authentic  sources,  the  most  important  facts  in  this  ce'e- 
oiatod  adventurer's  life,  and  in  a  style  that  possesses  more  than  ordinary  interest. — Evening  Posi. 

HOWITT— THE  CHILD'S  PICTURE  AND  VERSE-BOOK; 

Commonly  called  "Otto  Speckter's  Fable-Book."  Translated  from  the  Ger- 
man by  Mary  Howitt.  Illustrated  with  100  engravings  on  wood.  Square 
12mo.,  in  ornamental  binding,  $ 

A  celebrated  German  review  says,  ''Of  this  production,  which  makes  itself  an  epoch  in  the 
warld  of  children,  it  is  superfluous  to  speak.  The  Fable-Book  is  throughout  all  Germany  in  the 
•  amds  of  parents  and  children,  and  will  always  be  new,  because  evsry  year  fresh  children  are  born  K 

12 


Applcton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 


HOWITT.— LOVE  AND  MONEY; 

An  Every-Day  Tale,  by  Mary  Hewitt.     18mo.,  two  Plates,  cloth  gilt,  38  cents 

LITTLE  COIN,  MUCH  CARE; 

Or,  How  Poor  People  Live.     By  Mary  Howitt.     18mo.,  two  Plates,  3S  cents 

SOWING  AND  REAPING  ; 

Or,  What  will  Come  of  It.     By  Mary  Howitt.     13mo.,  two  Plates,  38  cents. 

ALICE  FRANKLIN; 

A  Sequel  to  Sowing  and  Reaping — a  Tale.     By  Mary  Howitt.     18mo.    two 
Plates,  cloth  gilt,  38  cents. 

WORK  AND  WAGES; 

Or,   Life  in   Service — a  Tale.     By  Mary  Howitt.     18mo.,  two  Plates,  cloth 
gilt,  38  cents. 

STRIVE  AND  THRIVE; 


A  Tale.     By  Mary  Howitt.     18mo.,  two  Plates,  cloth  gilt,  38  cents. 

WHO  SHALL  BE  GREATEST; 

A  Tale.     By  Mary  Howitt.     18mo.,  two  Plates,  cloth  gilt,  38  cents. 

WHICH   IS  THE  WISER; 

Or,  People  Abroad— a  Tale.     By  Mary  Howitt.     18mo.,  two  Plates,  33  cents. 

HOPE  ON,  HOPE  EVER; 

Or,  The   Boyhood  of  Felix   Law — a   Tale.     By   Mary  Howitt.     18mo.,  two 
Plates,  cloth  gilt,  38  cents. 

NO  SENSE  LIKE  COMMON  SENSE; 


A  Tale.     By  Mary  Howitt.     18mo.,  two  Plates,  cloth  gilt,  38  cents. 

*,,*  The  above  ten  volumes  form  a  portion  of  the  series  published  under  the  general  title  of 
'■Tales  for  the  People  and  their  Children." 

Of  late  years  many  writers  have  exerted  their  talent?  in  juvenile  literature,  with  great  success. 
Miss  Martineau  has  made  poli"'.cal  economy  as  familiar  to  boys  as  it  formerly  was  to  statesmen. 
Our  own  Miss  Sedgwick  has  produced  some  of  the  most  beautiful  moral  stories,  for  the  edification 
and  delight  of  children,  which  have  ever  been  written.  The  Hon.  Horace  Mann,  in  addresses  to 
adults,  has  presented  the  claims  of  children  for  good  education,  with  a  power  and  eloquence  of 
style,  and  an  elevation  of  thought,  which  shows  his  heart  is  in  his  work.  The  stories  of  Mary 
Howitt  Harriet  Martineau,  R**s.  Copley,  and  Mrs.  Ellis,  which  form  a  part  of"  Tales  for  the  Peo- 
ple and  their  Children,"  will  bt  (bund  valuable  additions  to  juvenile  literature  ;  at  the  same  time 
they  may  be  read  with  profit  by  parents  for  the  good  lessons  they  inculcate,  and  by  all  other  read- 
ers for  the  literary  excellence  they  display. 

We  wish  they  could  be  placed  in  the  hands  and  engraven  on  the  minds  of  all  the  you'n  in  the 
country.  They  manifest  a  nice  and  accurate  observation  of  human  nature,  and  especially  the  na- 
tuic  of  children,  a  fine  sympathy  with  every  thing  good  and  pure,  and  a  capability  of  infusing  it  in 
the  minds  of  others — great  beauty  and  simplicity  of  style,  and  a  keen  eye  to  practical  life,  with  all 
its  faults,  united  with  a  deep  love  for  ideal  excellence. 

Messrs  Appleton  &  Co  deserve  the  highest  praise  for  the  excellent  manner  in  which  thev 
have  "got  up"  their  juvenile  library,  and  we  sincerely  hope  that  its  success  will  be  so  great  as  to 
induce  them  to  make  continual  contributions  to  its  treasures.  The  collection  is  one  which  should 
be  owned  by  every  parent  who  wishes  that  the  moral  and  intellectual  improvement  of  his  children 

should  keep  pace  with  their  growth  in  years,  and  ths  development  of  their  physical  poweri 

American  Traveller 

JERRAM—  THE  CHILD'S  OWN  STORY-BOOK; 

Or,  Tales  and  Dialogues  for  the  Nursery.     By  Mrs.  Jerram  (late  Jane   Eliza- 
beth Holmes).     Illustrated  with  numerous  Engravings.     50  cents. 
There  are  seventy  stories  in  this  volume.     They  are  admirably  adapted  for  the  countless 
youth  for  whose  edification  they  are  narrated. — Boston  Oazette. 

JOHNSON.-THE  HISTORY  OF  RASSELAS, 

Prince  of  Abyssinia — a  Tale.     By   Samuel  Johnson,   LL.   D.     32mo.,   giH 

leaves,  38  cents. 

***  Forming  one  of tho  series  of"  Miniature  Classical  Library. M 
13 


Applcton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

JAMES— THE  TRUE  CHRISTIAN, 

Exemplified  in  a  Series  of  Addresses,  by  Rev.  John  Angell  James.     One  vol 
18mo,  38  cents. 
These  addresses  arc  amongst  the  choicest  effusions  of  the  admirable  author. — Chr.  Jntell. 

THE  ANXIOUS  INQUIRER 

A)V*  Salvation   Directed  and  Encouraged.     By  Rev.  John  Angell  Jame*. 
One  volume,  18mo.,  38  cents. 
Upwards  of  twenty  thousand  copies  of  this  excellent  little  volume  have  been  sold,  which  fu|]f 
Mfe9ts  the  high  estimation  the  work  has  attained  with  the  religious  community. 

HAPPINESS,  ITS  NATURE  AND  SOURCES. 

By  Rev.  John  Angell  James.     One  volume,  32mo.,  25  cents. 

This  is  written  in  the  excellent  author's  best  vein.  A  better  book  wo  have  not  in  a  long  tim« 
see  n. — Evangelist. 

THE  CHRISTIAN  PROFESSOR: 

Addressed  in  a  Series  of  Counsels  and  Cautions  to  the  Members  of  Christian 
Churches.     By  Rev.  John  Angell  James.     Second  edition.     One  volume, 
18mo.,  63  cents. 
A  most  excellent  work  from  the  able  and  prolific  pen  of  Mr.  James. —  Chr.  Intelligencer 

THE  YOUNG  MAN  FROM   HOME. 

In   a  Series   of  Letters,  especially  directed  for   the   Moral  Advancement  of 
Youth.      By   Rev.   John    Angell   James.     Fifth   edition.      One   volume, 
18mo.,  38  cents. 
The  work  is  a  rich  treasury  of  Christian  counsel  and  instruction. — Albany  Advertiser 

THE  WIDOW  DIRECTED 

To  the  Widow's  God.     By  Rev.  John  Angell  James.     One  volume,  18mo., 

38  cents. 

The  book  is  worthy  to  be  read  by  others  besides  the  class  for  which  it  is  especially  designed ; 
md  we  doubt  not  that  it  is  destined  to  come  as  a  friendly  visitor  to  many  a  house  of  mourninft 
Kid  as  a  healing  balm  to  many  a  wounded  heart. — JV.  Y.  Observer 

KEIGHTLEY— THE  MYTHOLOGY  OF  GREECE 

And  Italy,  designed  for  the  use  of  Schools.  By  Thomas  Keightley.  Nume- 
rous wood-cut  illustrations.     One  volume,  18mo.,  half  bound,  44  cents. 

This  i9  a  neat  little  volume,  and  well  adapted  to  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  prepared.  It 
presents,  in  a  very  compendious  and  convenient  form,  every  thing  relating  to  the  subject,  of  impor- 
tance to  the  young  student. — L.  J.  Star. 

KINGSLEY— THE  SACRED  CHOIR: 

A  Collection  of  Church  Music,  consisting  of  Selections  from  the  most  distin- 
guished Authors,  among  whom  are  the  names  of  Haydn,  Mozart,  Beetho- 
ven, Pergolessi,  &c.  &c,  with  several  pieces  of  Music  by  the  Author,  also 
a  Progressive  Elementary  System  of  Instruction  for  Pupils.  By  George 
Kingsley,  author  of  the  Social  Choir,  &c.  &c.     Fourth  edition.     75  cent*. 

Mr.  George  Kingsley  :  Sir, — We  have  examinedthe  "  Sacred  Choir  "  enough  to  lead  us  to  ap- 
preciate the  work  as  the  best  publication  of  Sacred  Music  extant.     Tt  is  beautifully  printed  and 
iabstantially  bound,  conferring  credit  on  the  publishers.     We  bespeak  for  the  "  Sacred  Cnoir  " 
extensivo  circulation  O.  S.  Bowdoin, 

Sinceiely  ycurs,  E.  O.  Goodwin 

/  D.  Ingraham. 

KIP— THE  DOUBLE  WITNESS  OF  THE  CHURCH, 

By  Rev.  Wm.  Ingraham  Kip,  author  of"  Lenten  Fast."     One  volume,  12mo 
Second  edition.     Boards  75  cents,  cloth  $1  00. 

This  is  a  sound,  clear,  and  able  production — a  book  much  wanted  for  these  times,  and  one  that 
we  feel  persuaded  will  prove  eminently  useful.  It  is  ahappy  delineation  of  that  double  withes* 
which  the  Church  bears  against  Romanism  and  ultra-Protestantism,  and  points  out  her  middle 
path  as  the  only  one  of  truth  and  safety. — Banner  of  the  Cross. 

14 


Appleton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

LAFEVER— BEAUTIES  OF  MODERN   ARCHITECTURE; 

Consisting  of  forty-eight  Plates  of  Original  Designs,  with  Plans,  Elevations, 
and  Sections,  also  a  Dictionary  of  Technical  Terms  ;  the  whole  forming  a 
complete  Manual  for  the  Practical  Builder.  By  M.  Lafever,  Architect. 
One  volume,  large  8vo.,  half  bound,  $6  00. 

STAIR-CASE  AND  HAND-RAIL 

Construction.  The  Modern  Practice  of  Stair-case  and  Hand-rail  Construction, 
practically  explained,  in  a  Series  of  Designs.  By  M.  Lafever,  Architect 
With  Plans  and  Elevations  for  Ornamental  Villas.  Fifteen  Plates.  One 
volume,  large  8vo.,  $3  00. 

Mr.  Lafever's  "  Beauties  of  Architecture,"  and  his  "  Practice  of  Stair-case  and  Hand-rail  con- 
struction," constitute  two  volumes  rich  in  instruction  in  those  departments  of  business.  They 
tie  a  necessary  acquisition  not  only  to  the  operative  workman,  but  to  all  landlords  and  proprietors 
of  houses,  who  would  combine  both  the  ornamental  and  useful  in  their  family  (iiv.llings.  and  also 
understand  the  most  economical  and  profitable  modes  by  which  their  edifices  can  be  erected  and 
repaired. 

LEWIS-RECORDS  OF  THE  HEART, 

By  Sarah  Anna  Lewis.     One  volume,  12mo.,  $1  00. 

We  have  read  some  of  the  pieces  with  much  pleasure.  They  indicate  poetic  genius  of  no  o»- 
dinary  kind,  and  are  imbued  with  much  feeling  and  pathos.  We  welcome  the  volume  as  a  credit 
able  accession  to  the  poetic  literature  of  the  country. — Boston  Traveller. 

LIEBIG— FAMILIAR  LETTERS  ON  CHEMISTRY, 

And  its  relation  to  Commerce,  Physiology,  and  Agriculture.  By  Justus  L.e- 
big,  M.  D.  Edited  by  John  Gardner,  M.  D.  One  volume.  13  centa 
in  paper,  25  cents  bound. 

The  Letters  contained  in  this  little  volume  embrace  some  of  the  most  important  points  of  ifie 
Science  of  Chemistry,  in  their  application  to  Natural  Philosophy,  Physiology,  Agriculture,  and 
Commerce. 

LETTER-WRITER, 

The  Useful    Letter- Writer,  comprising  a  succinct  Treatise  on  the  Epistolary 
Art,  and  Forms  of  Letters  for  all  ordinary  Occasions  of  Life.     Compiled 
from  the  best  authorities.     Frontispiece.     32mo.,  gilt  leaves,  38  cents. 
Forming  one  of  the  series  of  "Miniature  Classical  Library." 

LOOKING-GLASS  FOR  THE  MIND; 

Or,  Intellectual  Mirror.     Being  an  elegant  Collection  of  the  most  delightful 
little  Stories  and  interesting  Tales  ;  chiefly  translated  from  that  much  ad- 
mired  work,  L'ami   des   Enfans.     Illustrated  with   numerous  wood-cuts 
From  the  twentieth  London  edition.     One  volume,  18mo  ,  50  cents. 
Forming  one  of  the  series  of"  Tales  for  the  People  and  their  Children." 

LOG  CABIN: 

Or,  The  World  before  You.     By  the  author  of  "  Three  Experiments  of  Liv 
ing,"  "  The  Huguenots  in  France  and  America,"  etc.     One  volume,  18mo., 
50  cents. 
Every  person  who  takes  up  this  volume  will  rea'd  it  with  interest.     It  is  truly  what  the  writer 

intended  it  should  be — "  A  Gnide  to  Usefulness  and  Happiness." 

LOVER.-HANDY  ANDY: 

A  Tale  of  Irish  Life,  by  Samuel  Lover.     Illustrated  with  twenty-three  char- 
acteristic steel  Engravings.     One  volume,  8vo.,  cloth  $1  25,  boards  $1  00. 
Cheap  edition,  two  Plates,  paper,  50  cents. 
This  boy  Handy  will  be  the  death  of  us.     What  is  the  police  force  abent  to  allow  the  uttering 

*•(  a  publication  that  has  already  brought  us  to  the  brink  of  apopleitT  fifty  times  ? — Sport.  Review. 

L.  S.  D.— TREASURE  TROVE  : 

A  Tale,  by  Samuel   Lover.     One  volume,  8vo.,  with  two  steel  Engraving* 
Paper  cover,  25  cents. 

Tnis  is  a  capital  thing.  The  gay  and  the  grave,  the  "  lively  and  severe."  are  nnivj  with  a 
i-kilfL.  hand,  and  there  is  a  latent  tone  of  sound  morality  running  through  "L.  8.  D."  which  wiK 
lire  a  lasting  value  to  its  pagei. — Commercial  Advertiser. 

15 


Appletoris  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

LUCY  AND  ARTHUR; 

A  Book  for  Children.     Illustrated  with  numerous  engravings,  elegantly  hour* 
in  cloth.     50  cents. 
Lucy  and  Arthur  is  a  charming  story  of  the  nurserk,  prepared  oy  an  experienced  author.     So 
eure  it  for  the  family. — American  Traveller. 

LYRA  APOSTOLICA. 

From  the  Fifth  English  edition.     One  elegantly  printed  volume,  75  cents. 

In  this  elegant  volume  there  are  forty-five  sections,  and  one  hundred  and  seventy-nine  Vrk 
poems,  all  short,  and  many  of  them  sweet. — ftfew  York  American. 

MAGEE.-ON  ATONEMENT  AND  SACRIFICE: 

Discourses  siw<*  SiBseittiSions  on  the  Scriptural  Doctrines  of  Atonement  and 
Sacrifice,  mi  1  ,.,  the  Principal  Arguments  advanced,  and  the  Mode  of 
Reasoning  employed,  by  the  Opponents  of  those  Doctrines,  as  held  by  tha 
Established  Church.  By  the  late  Most  Rev.  William  M'Gee,  D.  D.,  Arch- 
bishop of  Dublin.  Two  volumes,  8vo.,  $5  00. 
This  is  one  of  the  ablest  critical  and  polemical  works  of  modern  times.     The  profound  biblica] 

information  on  a  variety  of  topics  which  the  Archbishop  brings  forward,  must  endear  his  name  to 

all  lovers  of  Christianity. —  Orme. 

MANNING.-THE  UNITY  OF  THE  CHURCH, 

By  the  Rev.  Henry  Edward  Manning,  M.  A.,  Archdeacon  of  Chichester.  Or*e 
volume,  16mo.,  $1  00. 

Part  I.  The  History  and  Exposition  of  the  Doctrine  of  Catholic  Unity.  Part  II.  The  Moral 
Design  of  Catholic  Unity.  Part  III.  The  Doctrine  of  Catholic  Unity  applied  to  the  Actual  Stats 
of  Christendom. 

We  commend  it  earnestly  to  the  devout  and  serious  perusal  of  all  Churchmen,  and  particularly 
of  all  clergymen,  as  the  ablest  discussion  we  ever  met  with  of  a  deeply  and  vitally  important  sub- 
ject.— Churchman. 

MARRYAT— MASTERMAN  READY; 

Or,  The  Wreck  of  the  Pacific.     Written  for  Young  Persons,  by  Capt.  Marry- 
at.      Complete  in  3  vols.,  18mo.,  with  Frontispiece,  cloth  gilt,  $1  25. 
Forming  a  portion  of  the  series  of"  Tales  for  the  People  and  their  Children." 

We  have  never  seen  any  thing  from  the  same  pen  we  like  as  well  as  this.  It  is  the  moden 
Crusoe,  and  is  entitled  to  take  rank  with  that  charming  romance. — Commercial  Advertiser. 

MARSHALL— NOTES  ON  THE  EPISCOPAL  POLITY 

Of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church,  with  some  account  of  the  Developments  of  Mo 
dern  Religious  Systems,  by  Thomas  William  Marshall,  B.  A.,  of  the  Dio 
cese  of  Salisbury.  Edited  by  Jonathan  M.  Wainwright,  D.  D.  With  a 
new  and  complete  Index  of  the  Subjects  and  of  the  Texts  of  Scripture 
One  volume,  12mo.,  $1  25. 

I.  Introduction.  II.  Scripture  Evidence.  III.  Evidence  of  Antiquity.  IV.  Admission  oi 
Adversaries.     V.  Development  of  Modern  Religious  Systems. 

A  more  important  work  than  this  has  not  been  issued  for  a  long  time.  We  earnestly  recowi 
mend  it  to  the  attention  of  every  Churchman. — Banner  of  the  Cross. 

MARTINEAU.-THE  CROFTON  BOYS; 

A  Tale  for  Youth,  by  Harriet  Martineau.  One  volume,  18mo.,  Frontispiece 
Cloth  gilt,  38  cents. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of  "Tales  for  the  People  and  their  Children." 

It  abounds  in  interest,  and  is  told  with  the  characteristic  ability  and  spirit  of  the  distinguished 
wither — Evening  Post.  / 


THE  PEASANT  AND  THE  PRINCE; 


A  Tale  of  the  French  Revolution,  by  Harriet  Martineau.     One  volume,  18mo. 
Frontispiece.     Cloth  gilt,  38  cents. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of  "  Tales  for  the  Poople  and  their  Children.' 

This  is  a  most  inviting  little  history  of  Louis  the  Sixteenth  and  his  family.  Here,  in  a  style 
even  more  familiar  than  Scott's  Tabs  of  a  Grandfather,  wo  have  a  graphic  epitome  of  many  fasts 
connected  with  the  days  of  the  "  Revolution." — Courier  &■  Enquirer. 

16 


Appltton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

MAURICE.— THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST; 

Or,  Hints  respecting  the  Principles,  Constitution,  and  Ordinances  of  the  Cath- 
olic Church.     By  Rev.  Frederick  Denison  Maurice,  M.  A.    London.    One 
volume,  8vo.,  600  pages,  $2  50. 
On  the  theory  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  ali  should  consult  the  work  of  Mr.  Maurice,  the  mott 

philosophical  writer  of  the  day. — Prof.  Oarbetfs  Bampton  Lectures,  1842 

MILTON— THE  COMPLETE  POETICAL  WORKS 

Oi  John  Milton,  with  Explanatory  Notes  and  a  Life  of  the  Author,  by  the  Rev 
Henry  Stebbing,  A.  M.  Illustrated  with  six  steel  Engravings.  One  vol- 
ume, 16mo.,  $1  25. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of  "Cabinet  Edition  of  Standard  Poets."     ***   The  Latin  and  Italian 
Poems  are  included  in  this  edition. 
Mr.  Stebbing's  Notes  will  be  found  very  useful  in  elucidating  the  learned  allusions  with  which 
the  text  abounds,  and  they  are  also  valuable  for  the  correct  appreciation  with  which  the  writer  di- 
rects attention  to  the  beauties  of  the  author. 

PARADISE  LOST, 

By  John  Milton.  With  Notes,  by  Rev.  H.  Stebbing.  One  volume,  18rno., 
cloth  38  cents,  gilt  leaves  50  cents. 

PARADISE  REGAINED, 

By  John  Milton.     With  Notes,  by  Rev.  H.  Stebbing.     One  volume,  18mo., 

cloth  25  cents,  gilt  leaves  38  cents. 
MAXWELL-FORTUNES  OF  HECTOR  O'HALLORAN 

And  his  man  Mark  Antony  O'Toole,  by  W.  H.  Maxwell.  One  volume,  8vo., 
two  plates,  paper,  50  cents,  twenty-four  plates,  boards,  $1  00,  cloth,  $1  25 
It  is  one  of  the  best  of  all  the  Irish  stories,  full  of  spirit,  fun,  drollery,  and  wit. — Cour.  $/■  Enq 

MOORE.-LALLAH  ROOKH  ; 

An  Oriental  Romance,  by  Thomas  Moore.  One  volume,  32mo.,  frontispiece, 
cloth  gilt,  38  cents. 

Forming  a  portion  of  the  series  of"  Miniature  Classical  Library." 
This  exquisite  Poem  has  long  been  the  admiration  of  readers  of  all  classes. 

MORE-PRACTICAL  PIETY, 

By  Hannah  More.     One  volume,  32mo.,  frontispiece,  38  cents. 
Forming  one  of  the  series  of"  Miniature  Classical  Library." 
"Practical  Piety  "  has  always  bee     deemed  the  most  attractive  and  eloquent  of  all  Hannah 
More's  works. 

PRIVATE  DEVOTION: 

A  Series  of  Prayers  and  Meditations,  with  an  Introductory  Essay  on  Prayer, 
chiefly  from  the  writings  of  Hannah  More.  From  the  twenty-fifth  London 
edition.     One  volume,  32mo.,  Frontispiece,  cloth  gilt,  31  cents. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of"  Miniature  Classical  Library." 
Upwards  of  fifty  thousand  copies  of  this  admirable  manual  have  been  sold  in  the  IT.  States. 

DOMESTIC  TALES 

And  Allegories,  illustrating  Human  Life.  By  Hannah  More.  One  volume, 
18mo.,  38  cents. 

Contents.— I.  Shepherd  of  Salisbury  Plain.    II.  Mr.  Fantora  the  Philosopher.    III.  Two 
Shoemakers.    IV    Giles  the  Poacher.    V.  Servant  turned  Soldier     VI.  General  Jail  Delivery. 


RURAL  TALES, 

By  Hannah  More.     One  volum'e,  18mo.^38  cents. 

Contents.— I.  Parley  the  Porter.    II.  All  for  the  Best.    III.  Two  Wealth"  Farmer*.    IV 
Tom  White.     V.  Pilgrims.     VI.  Valley  of  Teais. 

Forming  a  portion  of  the  series  of"  Tales  for  the  People  and  their  Children  •* 
These  two  volumes  comprise  that  portion  of  Hannah  More's  Repository  Tales  which  ai» 
adapted  to  general  usefulness  in  this  country. 

17 


Appleton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

NAPOLEON— PICTORIAL  HISTORY 

Of  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  translated  from  the  French  of  M.  Laurent  de  L'Ar 
deche,  with  Five  Hundred  spirited  Illustrations,  after  designs  by  Horace 
Vernet,  and  twenty  Original  Portraits  engraved  in  the  best  style.  Com- 
plete in  two  handsome  volumes,  8vo.,  about  500  pages  each,  $3  50  ;  cheap 
edition,  paper  cover,  four  parts,  $2  00. 
The  work  is  superior  to  the  long,  verbose  productions  of  Scott  and  Bourienne — not  in  style 
alone,  but  in  truth — being  written  to  please  neither  Charles  X.  nor  the  English  aristocracy,  but  (at 
tho  cause  of  freedom.     It  has  advantages  over  every  other  memoir  extant. — American  Traveller. 

NEWMAN— PAROCHIAL  SERMONS, 

Bv  John  Henry  Newman,  B.  D.  Six  volumes  of  the  English  edition  in  two 
volumes,  8vo.,  $5  00. 

SERMONS  BEARING  ON  SUBJECTS 

Of  the  Day,  by  John  Henry  Newman,  B.  D.     One  volume,  12mo.,  $1  25. 

As  a  compendium  of  Christian  duty,  these  Sermons  will  be  read  by  people  of  all  denomina- 
tions ;  as  models  of  style,  they  will  be  valued  by  writers  in  every  department  of  L  erature. —  United 
States  Oaiette. 

OGILBY.— ON  LAY-BAPTISM: 

An  Outline  of  the  Argument  against  the  Validity  of  Lay-Baptism.     By  John 

D.  Ogilby,  D.  D.,  Professor  of  Eccles.  History.     One  vol.,  12mo.,  75  cents. 

From  a  cursory  inspection  of  it,  we  take  it  to  be  a  thorough,  fearless,  and  able  discussion  of  the 

subject  which  it  proposes — aiming  less  to  excite  inquiry,  than  to  satisfy  by  learned  and  ingenious 

argument  inquiries  already  excited. —  Churchman. 

CATHOLIC  CHURCH   IN  ENGLAND 

And  America.  Three  Lectures — I.  The  Church  in  England  and  America 
Apostolic  and  Catholic.  II.  The  Causes  of  the  English  Reformation.  Ill 
Its  Character  and  Results.  By  John  D.  Ogilby,  D.  D.  One  vol.,  16mo., 
75  cents. 

"  I  believe  in  one  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church."     Nicene  Creed 
Prof.  Ogilby  has  furnished  the  Church,  in  this  little  volume,  with  a  most  valuable  aid.     We 
Jiinkitis  designed  to  became  a  text-book  on  the  subject  of  which  it  treats. — True  Catholic. 

OLD  OAK  TREE  : 

Illustrated  with  numerous  wood-cuts.     One  volume,  18mo.,  38  cents. 

The  precepts  conveyed  are  altogether  unexceptionable,  and  the  volume  is  well  calculated  to 
prove  attractive  with  children. — Saturday  Chronicle. 

OLMSTED— INCIDENTS  OF  A  WHALING  VOYAGE: 

To  which  is  added,  Observations  on  the  Scenery,  Manners,  and  Customs,  and 
Missionary  Stations  of  the  Sandwich  and  Society  Islands,  accompanied  by 
numerous  Plates.     By  Francis  Allyn  Olmsted.     One  vol.,  12rno.,  $1  50. 

The  work  embodies  a  mass  of  intelligence  interesting  to  the  ordinary  reader  as  well  as  to  tho 
philosophical  inquirer. —  Courier  Sr  Enquirer 

PAGET— TALES  OF  THE  VILLAGE, 

By  the  Rev.  Francis  E.  Paget,  M.  A.     Three  elegant  volumes,  18mo.,  $1  7f 

The  first  series,  or  volume,  presents  a  popular  view  of  the  contrast  in  opinions  and  modes  of 
thought  between  Churchmen  and  Romanists  ;  the  second  sets  forth  Church  principles,  as  opposed 
to  what,  in  England,  is  termed  Dissent;  and  the  third  places  in  contrast  the  chatacter  of  the 
Churchman  and  the  Infidel.  At  any  time  these  volumes  w/>uld  be  valuable,  especially  to  the 
young.  At  present,  when  men's  minds  are  much  turned  to  such  subjects,  they  cannot  fail  of  being 
eagerly  sought  for. — New-York  American 

PALMER— A  TREATISE  ON  THE  CHURCH 

Df  Christ.  Designed  chiefly  for  the  use  of  Students  in  Theology.  By  the 
Rev.  William  Palmer,  M.  A.,  of  Worcester  College,  Oxford.  Edited,  with 
Notes,  by  the  Right  Rev.  W.  R.  Whittingham,  D.  D.,  Bishop  of  the  Prot. 
Epis.  Church  in  the  Diocese  of  Maryland.     Two  volumes,  8vo.,  $5  00. 

Th»  chief  design  of  this  work  is  to  supply  some  answer  to  the  assertion  so  frequently  made, 
that  individuals  are  not  bound  to  submit  to  any  ecclesiastical  authority  whatever  :  or  that,  if  they 
ire,  they  must,  inconsistency,  accept  Romanism  with  all  its  claims  and  errors. — Preface. 

18 


Appleton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

PARNELL.— APPLIED  CHEMISTRY, 

In  Manufactures,  Arts,  and  Domestic  Economy.  Edited  by  E.  A.  Parnell. 
Illustrated  with  numerous  wood  Engravings,  and  specimens  of  Dyed  and 
Printed  Cottons.     Paper  cover  75  cents,  cloth  $1  00. 

The  Editor's  aim  is  to  divest  the  work,  as  far  as  practicable,  of  all  technical  terms,  ic  is  to 
edapt  it  to  the  requirements  of  the  general  reader. 

The  above  forma  the  first  division  of  the  work.  It  is  the  author's  intention  to  continue  i  from 
time  to  time,  so  as  to  form  a  complete  Practical  Encyclopaedia  of  Chemistry  applied  to  the  Arts. 
The  subjects  to  immediately  follow  will  be,  Manufacture  of  Glass,  Indigo,  Sulphuric  Acid  Zine, 
Potash,  Coffee,  Tea,  Chocolate,  &c. 

PEARSON— AN  EXPOSITION  OF  THE  CREED, 

By  John  Pearson,  D.  D.,  late  Bishop  of  Chester.  With  an  Appendix,  contain- 
ing the  principal  Greek  and  Latin  Creeds.  Revised  and  corrected  by  the 
Rev.  W.  S.  Dobson,  M.  A.,  Peterhouse,  Cambridge.     One  vol.,  8vo.,  $2  00. 

The  following  may  be  stated  as  the  advantages  of  this  edition  over  all  others  • 
First — Great  care  has  been  taken  to  correct  the  numerous  errors  in  the  references  to  the  texts 
of  Scripture,  which  had  crept  in  by  reason  of  the  repeated  editions  through  which  this  admirable 
work  has  passed  ,  and  many  references,  as  will  be  seen  on  turning  to  the  Index  of  Texts,  have 
oeen  added. 

Secondly — The  Quotations  in  the  Notes  have  been  almost  universally  identified  and  the  refer- 
ence to  them  adjoined. 

Lastly — The  principal  Symbola  or  Creeds,  of  which  the  particular  Articles  have  been  cited  by 
Ihe  Author,  have  been  annexed ;  and  wherevei  the  original  writers  have  given  the  Symbola  in  a 
scattered  and  disjointed  manner,  the  detached  parts  have  been  brought  into  a  successive  and  con- 
nected point  of  view.  These  have  been  added  in  Chronological  order,  in  the  form  of  an  Appen- 
dix.—  Vide  Editor 

PHILIP— THE  LIFE  AND  OPINIONS 

Of  Dr.  Milne,  Missionary  to  China.  Illustrated  by  Biographical  Annals  of 
Asiatic  Missions,  from  Primitive  Protestant  Times  :  intended  as  a  Guido 
to  Missionary  Spirit.     By  Rev.  Robert  Philip.     One  vol.,  12mo.,  50  cents. 

The  work  is  executed  with  great  skill,  and  embodies  a  vast  amount  of  valuable  missionary 
inte  ligence,  besides  a  rich  variety  of  personal  incidents,  adapted  to  gratify  not  only  the  missionary 
or  the  Christian,  but  the  more  general  reader. —  Observer. 

1    YOUNG  MAN'S  CLOSET  LIBRARY, 

By  Robert  Philip.  With  an  Introductory  Essay,  by  Rev.  Albert  Barnes.  One 
volume,  12mo.,  $1  00. 

LOVE  OF  THE  SPIRIT, 

Traced  in  His  Work  :  a  Companion  to  the  Experimental  Guides.  By  Robert 
Philip.     One  volume,  18mo.,  50  cents. 

DEVOTIONAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL 

Guides.  By  Robert  Philip.  With  an  Introductory  Essay  by  Rev.  Albert 
Barnes.  Two  volumes,  12mo.,  $1  75.  Containing  Guide  to  the  Per- 
plexed, Guide  to  the  Devotional,  Guide  to  the  Thoughtful,  Guide  to  the 
Doubting,  Guide  to  the  Conscientious,  Guide  to  Redemption. 

LADY'S  CLOSET  LIBRARY: 

The  Marys,  t  r  Beauty  of  Female  Holiness  ;  The  Marthas,  or  Varieties  of  Fe- 
male Piety  ,  The  Lydias,  or  Development  of  Female  Character.  By  Rob- 
ert Philip.     Each  volume,  18mo.,  50  cents 

The  MATERNAL  series  of  the  above  popular  Library  is  now  ready,  entitled 

The  Hannahs  ;  or,  Maternal  Influence  of  Sons.  By  Robert  Philip.  One 
volume,  ISmo.,  50  cents. 

The  author  of  this  excellent  work  is  known  to  the  public  as  one  of  the  most  prolific  writers  o» 
the  day,  and  scarcely  any  writer  in  the  department  which  he  occupies  has  acquired  so  extensive 
and  well-merited  a  popularity.  —  Evangelist. 

POLLOK—  THE  COURSE  OF  TIME, 

By  Robert  Pollok.     With  a  Life  of  the  Author,  and  complete  Analytical  In 
dex,  prepared  expressly  for  this  edition.     32mo.,  frontispiece,  38  centg. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of  "  Miniature  Classical  Library." 
Few  modern  Poems  exist  which  at  once  attained  such  acceptance  and  celebrity  as  thu. 

19 


Applcton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

PRATT.-DAWNINGS  OF  GENIUS; 

Or,  the  Early  Lives  of  some  Eminent  Persons  of  the  last  Century.  By  Anns 
Pratt.     One  volume,  18mo.,  frontispiece,  38  cents. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of"  A  Library  for  my  Young  Countrymen." 
Contents. — Sir  Humphrey  Davy — Rev.  George  Crabbe — Baron  Cuvier — Sir  Joshua  Reyr.<4d* 
— Lindley  Murray — Sir  James  Mackintosh— Dr.  Adam  Clarke. 

PRIZE  STORY-BOOK: 

Consisting  chiefly  of  Tales,  translated  from  the  German,  French,  and  Itali&n 
together  with  Select  Tales  from  the  English.  Illustrated  with  numerouo 
Engravings  from  new  designs.     One  thick  volume,  IGino.,  cloth  gilt. 

PURE  GOLD  FROM  THE  RIVERS  OF  WISDOM: 

A  Collection  of  Short  Extracts  from  the  most  Eminent  Writers — Bishop  Hall, 
Jeremy  Taylor,  Barrow,  Hooker,  Bacon,  Leighton,  Addison,  Wilberforce, 
Johnson,  Young,  Southey,  Lady  Montague,  Hannah  More,  etc.  One 
volume,  32mo.,  frontispiece,  cloth  gilt,  31  cents. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of  "  Miniature  Classical  Library." 

PUSS  IN  BOOTS: 

A  pure  Translation  in  Prose,  from  the  original  German.     Illustrated  with  1 
original  Designs,  suitable  for  the  Tastes  of  the  Young  or  Old,  by  the  cele- 
brated artist,  Otto  Speckter.     One  vol.,  square  12mo.,  cloth  gilt. 

SAINT  PIERRE— PAUL  AND  VIRGINIA: 

A  Tale,  by  J.  B.  H.  De  Saint  Pierre.  One  volume,  32mo.,  frontispiece,  cloth 
gilt,  31  cents. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of"  Miniature  Classical  Library." 

SANDHAM— THE  TWIN  SISTERS: 

A  Tale  for  Youth,  by  Mrs.  Sandham.  From  the  twentieth  London  edition 
One  volume,  18mo.,  frontispiece,  cloth  gilt,  38  cents. 

Forming  a  portion  of  the  series  of"  Tales  for  the  People  and  their  Children." 
The  moral  is  excellent  throughout.      Its  merit  renders  it  a  pleasant  book  for  even  grown-up 
children. — Boston  Post. 

SCOTT— THE  POETICAL  WORKS 

Of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Bart.  Containing  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  Marmion, 
Lady  of  the  Lake,  Don  Roderick,  Rokeby,  Ballads,  Lyrics,  and  Songs, 
with  a  Life  of  the  Author.  Illustrated  with  aix  steel  Engravings.  One 
volume,  16mo.,  $1  25. 

LADY  OF  THE  LAKE  : 

A  Poem,  by  Sir  Walter  Scott.  One  volume,  18mo.,  frontispiece,  cloth  25 
cents,  gilt  edges  38  cents. 

MARMION: 

A  Tale  of  Flodden  Field,  by  Sir  Walter  Scott.  One  volume,  18mo.,  frontis- 
piece, cloth  25  cents,  gilt  edges  38  cents. 

r LAY  OF  THE  LAST  MINSTREL: 

A  Poem,  by  Sir  Walter  Scott.  One  volume,  18mo.,  frontispiece,  cloth  25 
cents,  gilt  edges  38  cents. 

Walter  Scott  is  the  most  popular  of  all  the  poets  of  the  pfesent  day,  and  deservedly  so.  lie 
describes  that  which  is  most  easily  and  generally  understood  with  more  vivacity  and  effect  than 
a«y  other  writer.  His  style  is  clear,  flowing,  and  transparent;  his  sentiments,  of  which  hi§  ityla 
is  an  easy  and  natural  medium,  are  common  to  him  with  his  readers. — Hailitt. 

SPINCKES.-MANUAL  OF  PRIVATE  DEVOTIONS: 

'Complete,)  collected  from  the  writings  of  Archbishop  Laud,  Bishop  Andrews, 
Bishop  Ken,  Dr.  Hickes,  Mr.  Kettlewell,  Mr.  Spinckes,  and  other  eminent 
old  English  divines.     With  a  Preface  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Spinckes.     Edited 
by  Francis  E.  Paget,  M.  A.     One  elegant  volume,  16mo.,  $1  00. 
Km  a  manual  of  private  devotions,  it  will  be  found  most  valuable. — JVno-  York  American. 

20 


Applcton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

SPENCER— THE  CHRISTIAN  INSTRUCTED 

In  the  Ways  of  the  Gospel  and  the  Church,  in  a  series  of  Discourses  delivered 
at  St.  James's  Church,  Goshen,  New-York.  By  the  Rev.  J.  A.  Spencer, 
M.  A.,  late  Rector.     One  volume,  16mo.,  $1  25. 

This  is  a  very  useful  volume  of  Sermons  :  respectable  in  style,  sound  in  doctrine,  and  affec- 
tionate in  tone,  they  are  well  adapted  for  reading  in  the  family  circle,  or  placing  on  the  family 
book-shelf,  *  *  *  We  think  it  a  work  of  which  the  circulation  is  likely  to  promote  true  reli- 
gion and  genuine  piety.  It  is  enriched  with  a  body  of  excellent  notes  selected  from.the  writings 
of  the  dead  and  living  ornaments  of  the  Church  in  England  and  this  country. —  True  Catholic. 

SPRAGUE— TRUE  AND  FALSE  RELIGION. 

Lectures  illustrating  the  Contrast  between  true  Christianity  and  various  other 
Systems.     By  William  B.  Sprague,  D.  D.     One  volume,  12mo.,  %\  00. 

LECTURES  TO  YOUNG  PEOPLE, 

By  W.  B.  Sprague,  D.  D.  With  an  Introductory  Address,  by  Samuel  Millert 
D.  D.     Fourth  edition.     One  volume,  12mo.,  83  cents. 

SUTTON.-MEDITATIONS  ON  THE  SACRAMENT. 

Godly  Meditations  upon  the  most  Holy  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  By 
Christopher  Sutton,  D.  D.,  late  Prebend  of  Westminster.  One  volume, 
royal  16mo.,  elegantly  ornamented,  $>1  00. 

We  announced  in  our  last  number  the  republication  in  this  country  of  Sutton's  "  Meditations 
on  the  Lord's  Supf>  /'  and,  having  since  read  the  work,  are  prepared  to  recommend  it  warmly  and 
without  qualification  to  the  perusal  of  our  readers. — Banner  of  the  Cross. 

DISCE  MORI— LEARN  TO  DIE: 

A  Religious  Discourse,  moving  every  Christian  man  to  enter  into  a  Serious 
Remembrance  of  his  End.  By  Christopher  Sutton,  D.  D.  One  volume, 
16mo.,  $1  00. 

Of  the  three  works  of  this  excellent  author  lately  reprinted,  the  "  Disce  Mori  "  is,  in  our  judg- 
ment, decidedly  the  best.  We  do  not  believe  that  a  single  journal  or  clergyman  in  the  Church 
will  be  found  to  say  a  word  in  its  disparagement. —  Churchman. 

DISCE  VIVERE— LEARN  TO  LIVE: 

Wherein  is  shown  that  the  Life  of  Christ  is  and  ought  to  be  an  Express  Pat- 
tern for  Imitation  unto  the  Life  of  a  Christian.  By  Christopher  Sutton, 
D.  D.     One  volume,  16mo.,  <$1  00. 

In  the  "  Disce  Vivere,"  the  author  moulded  his  materials,  after  the  manner  of  a  Kempis,  into 
an  "  Imitatio  Christi ;"  each  chapter  inculcating  some  duty,  upon  the  pattern  of  Him  who  gave 
Himself  to  be  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  all  perfection. — Editor's  Preface. 

SWART— LETTERS  TO  MY  GODCHILD, 

By  the  Rev.  J.  Swart,   A.  M.,  of  the  Diocese  of  Western  New-York.     One 
volume,  32mo.,  cloth,  gilt  leaves,  38  cents. 
The  design  of  this  little  work,  as  expressed  by  the  author  in  the  preface,  is,  the  discharging  of 
Sponsorial  obligations.     We  have  read  it  with  interest  and  pleasure,  and  deem  it  well  fitted  to  se- 
cure its  end. — Primitive  Standard. 

SHERLOCK— THE  PRACTICAL  CHRISTIAN; 

Or,  the  Devout  Penitent;  a  Book  of  Devotion,  containing  the  Whole  Duty  of 
a  Christian  in  all  Occasions  and  Necessities,  fitted  to  the  main  use  of  a  holy 
Life.  By  R.  Sherlock,  D  D.  With  a  Life  of  the  Author,  by  the  Right 
Rev.  Bishop  Wilson,  Author  of  "Sacra  Privata,"  &c.  One  elegant  vol- 
ume, 16mo.,  $1  00. 

Considpred  as  a  manual  of  private  devotien,  and  a  means  of  practical  preparation  for  the  Holy 
Communion  of  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Christ,  tl.is'book  is  among  the  best,  if  not  the  best,  ever 
tommended  to  the  members  of  our  Church. — Churchman, 

SILLIMAN— A  GALLOP  AMONG  AMERICAN  SCENERY; 

Or,  Sketches  of  American  Scenes  and   Military  Adventure. 
Silliman      One  volume,  16mo.,  75  cents. 

21 


Appleton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

SHERWOOD-DUTY  IS  SAFETY; 

Or,  Troublesome  Tom,  by  Mrs.  Sherwood.  One  volume,  small  4to.,  illustra 
ted  with  woodcuts,  cloth,  25  cents. 

THINK  BEFORE  YOU  ACT, 

By  Mrs.  Sherwood.     One  volume,  small  4to.,  wood  cuts,  cloth,  25  cents. 

JACK  THE  SAILOR-BOY, 

Uy  Mrs.  Sherwood.     One  volume,  small  4to.,  wood  cuts,  cloth,  25  cents. 

Mrs.  Sherwood's  stories  carry  with  them  always  such  an  excellent  moral,  that  no  child  can  reai 
them  without  becoming  better. — Philadelphia  Enquirer. 

SINCLAIR— SCOTLAND  AND  THE  SCOTCH; 

Or,  the  Western  Circuit.  By  Catharine  Sinclair,  author  of  Modern  Accom 
plishments,  Modern  Society,  &c.  &c.     One  volume,  12mo.,  75  cents. 

SHETLAND  AND  THE  SHETLANDERS; 

Or,  the  Northern  Circuit.     By  Catharine  Sinclair,  author  of  Scotland  and  the 
Scotch,  Holiday  House,  &c.  &c.     One  volume,  12mo.,  88  cents. 
The  author  has  proved  herself  to  be  a  lady  of  high  talent  and  rich  cultivated  mind. — JV.  Y.  Am. 

SMITH-SCRIPTURE  AND  GEOLOGY; 

On  the  Relation  between  the  Holy  Scriptures  and  some  parts  of  Geological 
Science.  Eight  Lectures.  By  John  Pye  Smith,  D.  D.,  author  of  the 
Scripture  Testimony  of  the  Messiah,  &c.  &c.     One  vol.,  12mo.,  $1  25. 

ADVENTURES  OF  CAPT.  JOHN  SMITH, 

The  Founder  of  the  Colony  of  Virginia.  By  the  author  of  Uncle  Philip's 
Conversations.     One  volume,  18mo.,  frontispiece,  38  cents. 

Forming  one  of  the  series  of  "  Library  for  my  Young  Country  men." 
It  will  be  read  by  youth  with  all  the  interest  of  a  novel,  and  certainly  with  much  more  profit 

DISCOURSES  ON  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 

Select  Discourses  on  the  Functions  of  the  Nervous  System,  in  opposition  to 
Phrenology,  Materialism,  and  Atheism  ;  to  which  is  prefixed  a  Lecture  on 
the  Diversities  of  the  Human  Character,  arising  from  Physiological  Pecu- 
liarities.    By  John  Augustine  Smith,  M.  D.     One  vol.,  12mo.,  75  cents. 

PRODUCTIVE  FARMING. 

A  Familiar  Digest  of  the  Most  Recent  Discoveries  of  Liebig,  Davy,  Johnston, 
and  other  celebrated  Writers  on  Vegetable  Chemistry,  showing  how  the 
results  of  Tillage  might  be  greatly  augmented.  By  Joseph  A.  Smith.  One 
volume,  12mo.,  paper  cover  31  cents,  cloth  50  cents. 

SOUTHGATE.-TOUR  THROUGH  TURKEY 

And  Persia.  Narrative  of  a  Tour  through  Armenia,  Kurdistan,  Persia,  and 
Mesopotamia,  with  an  Introduction  and  Occasional  Observations  upon  the 
Condition  of  Mohammedanism  and  Christianity  in  those  countries.  By 
the  Rev.  Horatio  Southgate,  Missionary  of  the  American  Episcopal  Church. 
Two  volumes,  12mo.,  plates,  $2  00. 

SOUTHEY— THE  COMPLETE  POETICAL  WORKS 

Of  Robert  Southey,  Esq.,  LL.  D.  The  ten  volume  London  edition  in  one  ele- 
gant volume,  royal  8vo.,  with  a  fine  portrait  and  vignette,  $3  50. 

At  the  age  of  sixty-three  I  have  undertaken  to  collect  and  edit  my  poetical  works,  with  the  lasl 
corrections  that  I  can  expect  to  bestow  upon  them.  They  have  obtained  a  reputation  equal  to 
my  wishes.  *  *  Thus  to  collect  and  revise  them  is  a  duty  which  I  owe  to  that  part  of  the  pub- 
lic by  whom  they  have  been  auspiciously  received,  and  to  those  who  will  take  a  lively  concern  in 
my  good  name  when  I  shall  have  departed.— Extract  from  Author's  Preface. 

The  beauties  of  Mr.  Southoy's  poetry  arc  such,  that  this  edition  can  hardly  fail  to  find  a  place 
in  tbt  library  of  every  man  fond  of  elegant  literature—  Eclectic  Review 

22 


Appleton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 


TAYLOR— THE  SACRED  ORDER  AND  OFFICES 

Of  Episcopacy  Asserted  and  Maintained  ;  to  which  is  added,  Clerus  Domini, 
a  Discourse  on  the  Office  Ministerial,  by  the  Right  Rev.  Bishop  Jeremy 
Taylor,  D.  D.     One  volume,  16mo.,  $1  00. 

The  reprint  in  a  portable  form  of  this  eminent  divine's  masterly  defence  of  £piscopacy,  cannot 
fail  of  being  welcomed  by  every  Churchman. 

The  publishers  have  presented  this  jewel  in  a  fitting  casket. — .AC  Y.  American. 

■ THE  GOLDEN  GROVE: 

A  choice  Manual,  containing  what  is  to  be  Believed,  Practised,  and  Desired 
or  prayed  for  ;  the  Prayers  being  fitted  for  the  several  Days  of  the  Week. 
To  which  is  added,  a  Guide  for  the  Penitent,  or  a  Model  drawn  up  for  the 
Help  of  Devout  Souls  wounded  with  Sin.  Also,  Festival  Hymns,  &c.  By 
the  Right  Rev.  Bishop  Jeremy  Taylor.     One  volume,  16mo.,  50  cents. 

THE  YOUNG   ISLANDERS: 


A  Tale  of  the  Last  Century,  by  Jefl'erys  Taylor.  One  volume,  16mo.,  beauti- 
fully illustrated,  75  cents. 

This  fascinating  and  elegantly  illustrated  volume  for  the  young  is  pronounced  to  equal  in  inte- 
rest De  Foe's  immortal  work,  Robinson  Crusoe. 

HOME   EDUCATION, 

By  Isaac  Taylor,  author  of  "Natural  History  of  Enthusiasm,"  &c.  &c.     Sec- 
ond edition.     One  volume,  12mo.,  $1  00. 
Avery  enlightened,  just,  and  Christian  view  of  a  most  important  subject. — Am.  Bib.  Repos. 

- PHYSICAL  THEORY 

Of  another  Life,  by  Isaac  Taylor.  Third  edition.  One  vol.,  12mo.,  88  cents. 
One  of  the  most  learned  and  extraordinary  works  of  modern  times. 

SPIRITUAL  CHRISTIANITY. 

Lectures  on  Spiritual  Christianity,  by  Isaac  Taylor.     One  vol.,  12mo.,  75  cents 
The  view  which  this  volume  gives  of  Chiistianity,both  as  a  system  of  truth  and  a  system  of 
duty,  is  in  the  highest  degree  instructive. — Albany  Evening  Journal. 

NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  SOCIETY 

In  the  Barbarous  and  Civilized  State.  An  Essay  towards  Discovering  the 
Origin  and  Course  of  Human  Improvement,  by  W.  Cooke  Taylor,  LL.  D., 
&c,  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin.  Handsomely  printed  on  fine  paper.  Two 
volumes,  12mo.,  $2  25. 

THOUGHTS  IN  PAST  YEARS: 

A  collection  of  Poetry,  chiefly  Devotional,  by  the  author  of  The  Cathedral 
One  volume,  16mo.,  elegantly  printed,  $1  25. 

TOKEN  OF  AFFECTION. 

One  volume,  32mo.,  frontispiece,  cloth,  gilt  leaves,  31  cents. 

FRIENDSHIP. 

One  volume,  32mo.,  frontispiece,  cloth,  gilt  leaves,  31  cents. 

LOVE. 

Jne  volume,  32mo.,  frontispiece,  cloth,  gilt  leaves,  31  cents. 

REMEMBRANCE. 

One  volume,  32mo.,  frontispiece,  cloth,  gilt  leaves,  31  cents. 

THE  HEART. 

One  volume,  32mo.,  frontispiece,  cloth,  gilt  leaves,  31  cents. 

Forming  a  portion  of  the  sories  of"  Miniature  Clasiical  Library." 
Each  volume  consists  of  nearly  one  hundred  appropriate  extract!  flora  the  beit  writer!  of  Bnf 
bndand  America, 

23 


Appleton's  Catalogue  of  Valuable  Publications. 

THOMSON— THE  SEASONS, 

A  Poem,  by  James  Thomson.     One  vol.,  32mo.,  cloth,  gilt  leaves,  38  cento. 
Forming  one  of  the  series  of"  Miniature  Classical  Library." 
Place  "  The  Seasons  "  in  any  light,  and  the  poem  appears  faultless. — S.  C.  Hall. 

URE.-DiCTIONARY  OF  ARTS, 

Manufactures,  and  Mines,  containing  a  clear  Exposition  of  their  Principles  and 
Practice.  By  Andrew  Ure,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  S.,  &c.  Illustrated  with  1240 
Engravings  on  wood.  One  thick  volume  of  1340  pages,  bound  in  leather 
$5  00,  or  in  two  volumes,  $5  50. 

In  every  point  of  view,  a  work  like  the  present  can  but  he  regarded  as  a  benefit  done  to  theoret- 
icaV  and  practical  science,  to  commerce  and  industry,  and  an  important  addition  to  a  species  (A 
literature  the  exclusive  production  of  the  present  century,  and  the  present  state  of  peace  and  civi- 
lization— Mhentrum. 

Dr.  Ure's  Dictionary,  of  which  the  American  edition  is  now  completed,  is  a  stupendous  proof 
of  persevering  assiduity,  combined  with  genius  and  taste.  For  all  the  benefit  of  individual  enter- 
prise in  the  practical  arts  and  manufactures,  and  for  the  enhancement  of  general  prosperity  through 
the  extension  of  accurate  knowledge  of  political  economy,  we  have  not  any  work  worthy  to  be 
compared  with  this  important  volume.  We  are  convinced  that  manufacturers,  merchants,  tradei- 
men,  students  of  natural  and  experimental  philosophy,  inventive  mechanics,  men  of  opulence, 
members  of  legislatures,  and  all  who  desire  to  comprehend  something  of  the  rapidly  accelerating 
progress  of  those  discoveries  which  facilitate  the  supply  of  human  wants,  and  the  augmentation 
of  social  comforts  with  the  national  weal,  will  find  this  invaluable  Dictionary  a  perennial  source 
of  salutary  instruction  and  edifying  enjoyment. — National  Intelligencer. 

VERY  LITTLE  TALES, 

For  Very  Little  Children,  in  single  Syllables  of  three  and  four  Letters — first 
series.  One  volume,  square  18mo.,  numerous  illustrations,  cloth,  38  cents 
Second  Scries,  in  single  Syllables  of  four  and  five  Letters.  One  volume, 
square  18mo.,  numerous  illustrations — to  match  first  series — 38  cents. 

WAYLAND.-LIMITATIONS  OF  HUMAN 

Responsibility.     By  Francis  Wayland,  D.  D.      One  volume,  18mo.,  38  cents. 

Contents. — I.  The  Nature  of  the  Subject.  II.  Individual  Responsibility.  III.  Individual 
Responsibility  (continued).  IV.  Peisecution  on  account  of  Religious  Opinions.  V.  Propagation 
of  Truth.  VI.  Voluntary  Associations.  VII.  Ecclesiastical  Associations.  VIII.  Official  Respon 
eibility.     IX.  The  Slavery  Question. 

WILBERFORCE— MANUAL  FOR  COMMUNICANTS; 

Or,  The  Order  for  administering  the  Holy  Communion  ;  conveniently  arrang- 
ed with  Meditations  and  Prayers  from  old  English  divines  :   being  the  Eu- 
charistica  of  Samuel  Wilberforce,  M.  A.,  Archdeacon  of  Surrey,  (adapted 
to  the  American  service.)     38  cents,  gilt  leaves  50  cents. 
We  most  earnestly  commend  the  work. —  Churchman. 

WILSON— SACRA  PRIVATA. 

The  Private  Meditations,  Devotions,  and  Prayers  of  the  Right  Rev.  T.  Wil- 
son, D.  D.,  Lord  Bishop  of  Soder  and  Man.  First  complete  edition.  One 
volume,  16mo.,  elegantly  ornamented,  $1  00. 

The  reprint  is  an  honor  to  the  American  press.  The  work  itself  is,  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  the 
best  devotional  treatise  in  the  language.  It  has  never  before  in  this  country  been  printed  entire. 
— Churchman. 

A  neat  miniature  edition,  abridged  for  popular  use,  is  also  published.     Price  31  cents. 

WOMAN'S  WORTH; 

Or,  Hints  to  Raise  the  Female  Character.  First  American  from  the  last  Eng 
lish  edition,  with  a  Recommendatory  Notice,  by  Emily  Marshall.  One 
neat  volume,  18mo.,  cloth  gilt  38  cents,  paper  cover  25  cents. 

The  sentiments  and  principles  enforced  in  this  book  may  be  safely  commended  to  the  atten- 
tion of  women  of  all  ranks — London  Atlas. 

YOUTH'S  BOOK  OF  NATURE; 

Or,  The  Four  Seasons  Illustrated,  being  Familiar  Descriptions  of  Natural  His- 
tory, made  during  Walks  in  the  Country,  by  Rev.  H.  B.  Draper.  Illustra- 
ted with  upwards  of  50  wood  Engravings.  One  vol.,  square  16mo.,  75centa. 
One  of  the  most  faultless  volumes  for  the  young  that  has  ever  been  issued. —  Chr.  Reflector. 

24 


COMMON  SCHOOL  LIBRARY. 

D.    APPLETON     8l     COMPANY 

Would  call  the  attention  of  School  Committees  and  others,  to  their  well-known  series  of  the  COMMON 
SCHOOL  LIBRARY.  The  books  composing  this  series  have  all  been  selected  with  great  care,  combining 
amusement  with  instruction ;  and  at  the  same  time,  avoiding  every  thing  sectarian  in  its  tendency.  The 
volumes  are  strongly  and  neatly  bound  in  leather. 

D.  A.  &  Co.  have  numerous  letters  from  District  School  Superintendents,  and  others  connected  with 
Common  Schools,  troin  various  sections  of  the  state,  speaking  very  highly  of  this  series. 


Work  and  Wages. 


FIRST  SERIES -25 

By  Mary  Howitt. 


Little  Coin  much  Care 

Winch  is  the  Wiser? 

Who  shall  be  Greatest? 

Hope  on,  Hope  ever. 

Strive  and  Thrive. 

Sowing  and  Reaping. 

Alice  Franklin. 

Peasant  and  the  Prince 

The  Twin  Sisters.     By  Mrs.  Sandham 

Masterman  Ready.    By  Capt.  Marry .itt.  3  vols. 

Looking-glass  for  the  Mind.    Many  plates. 


Do. 
Do. 
Do. 
Do 
Do. 
Do. 
Do. 
By  Harriet  Martineau. 


Volumes,  $7.50.— contains 

Tired  of  Housekeeping.    By  T.  S.  Arthur 

Early  Friendship.    By  Mrs.  Copley. 

The  Poplar  Grove.  Do. 

First  Impressions.  By  Mrs.  Ellis. 

Dangers  of  Dining  Out.  Do. 

Sommerville  Hall.  Do. 

Life  and  Adventures  of  Henry  Hudson.    By  the 

author  ot  Uncle  Philip. 
Adventures  of  Capt.  John  Smith.    By  do. 
Life  and  Adventures  of  Heman  Cortes.     By  do 
Dawnings  of  Genius.    By  Anne  Pratt. 
Keightley's  Mythology. 


SECOND   SERIES.-25  Volumes,  $7.50.-contains 


My  Own  Story.  By  Mary  Howitt. 

The  Two  Apprentices.  Do. 

Love  and  Money.  Do. 

No  Sense  like  Common  Sense.      Do. 

My  Uncle  the  Clockmaker.  Do. 

The  Farmer's  Daughter.     By  Mrs.  Cameron. 

Young  Student.    By  Madame  Guizot.  3  vols. 

Domestic  Tales.    By  Hannah  More. 

Rural  Tales.  Do. 

Woman's  Worth    or,  Hints  to  Raise  the  Female 

Character. 
Young  Man  from  Home.    By  J.  A.  James. 


Settlers  in  Canada.  2  vols.    By  Capt.  Marryatt. 

The  Crofton  Boys.    By  Harriet  Martineau. 

Adventures  of  Daniel  Boone. 

Philip  Randolph.  A  Tale  of  Virginia.  By  Mary 
Gertrude. 

Rowan's  History  of  the  French  Revolution.    2  vols. 

Souther's  Life  of  Oliver  Cromwell. 

Boy's  Manual — Containing  the  Principles  of  Con- 
duct, &c. 

Girl's  Manual.  Do.  do. 

Minister's  Family.    By  Mrs.  Ellis. 

Liebig's  Familiar  Letters  on  Chemistry. 


THIRD   SERIES.-12  Volumes,  12mo. 

*#*    Any  volume  of  this  series  can  be  had  separately. 


1  he  Book  of  the  United  States  Army.  By  Prof  Frost.  $1.25 

Do.                           do.            Navy.            Do.  1.00 

Do.                           do.            Indians.        Do.  1.00 

The  Farmer's  and  Emigrant's  Hand-Book.       -        -  1.00 

Stewart's  Stable  Economy.     Edited  by  A.  B.  Allen.  1.00 

Zschokke's  Incidents  of  Social  Life.         -  1.00 


The  Daughters  of  England 

Do.     Wives  do. 

Do.    Women  do. 

Do.    Mothers  do. 

Guizot's  History  of  Civilization 

The  Farmer's  Treasure.    - 


By  Mrs.  Ellis 
do.  - 
do.  - 
do.   - 


$  50 
50 
50 
50 
1.00 
75 
historical  and  other  read 


This  series  is  emphatically  a  "TOWN  LIBRARY,"  embracing,  in  addition  to  interestin 
ing  matter,  various  works  on  those  subjects  in  science  and  art,  peculiarly  interesting  to  the  residents  of  towns  and  vil 
lages ;  while  at  the  same  time  they  are  not  beyond  the  comprehension  of  the  junior  portion  of  the  community. 

COMPLETE    TEXT-BOOK    OF    HISTORY. 

A  MANUAL  OF  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  HISTORY: 

By  W.  Cooke  Taylor,  LL.  D.,  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin. 

REVISED,  WITH  ADDITIONS  ON  AMERICAN  HISTORY, 

By  C.  S.  Henry,  D.  D.,  Prof,  of  History  in  the  University  of  N.  York. 

One  handsome  volume,  8vo.,  of  800  pages.    $2.25. 

*#*  For  convenience  as  a  Class-book,  the  Ancient  or  Modern  portion  can  be  had  separately. 


I  Ancient  History,  containing  the  Political  History, 
Geographical  Position,  and  Social  State  of  the  Principal 
Nations  of  Antiquity,  carefully  digested  from  the  An- 
cient Writers,  and  illustrated  by  the  discoveries  of 
Modern  Scholars  and  Travellers. 

This    portion  is  one  of  the  best  compends  of  Ancient 
History  that  ever  yet  has  appeared.    It  contains  a  complete 
isxt  for  the  collegiate  lecturer;  and  is  an  essential  hand- 
book for  the  student  who  is  desirous  to  become  acquainted 
with  all  that  is  memorable  in  general  secular  archaeology. 
3.  Modern  History,  containing  the  Rjse  and  Progress  of 
the  Principal  European  Nations,  their  Political  History, 
and  the  Changes  in  their  Social  Condition,  with  a  History 
of  the  Colonies  founded  by  Europeans,  and  a  Chapter  on 
the  United  States. 

This  Manual  of  Modern  History,  by  Mr.  Taylor,  is  the 
most  valuable  and  instructive  work  concerning  the  general 
subjects  which  it  comprehends,  that  can  be  found  in  the 
whole  department  of  historical  literature. 


Mr.  Jared  Sparks,  in  speaking  of  this  Manual,  says: 

"As  a  compend  of  General  History  adapted  to  the  use  of 

students,  and  to  the  time  allotted  to  them  for  this  branch  of 

study,  I  am  inclined  to  think  this  work  preferable  to  those 

which  have  preceded  it." 

President  Shelden,  of  the  Waterville  College,  says  of  it: 

"I  have  devoted  as  much  time  as  I  have  been  able,  to 

an  examination  of 'Taylor's  Manual  of  Ancient  and  Modern 

History ;'  and  I  feel  prepared  to  say,  that  I  look  upon  it  as 

the  most  valuable  work  which  I  have  seen,  for  the  purposes 

for  which  such  a  Manual  is  likely  to  be  used Wherever 

a  general  text-book  of  history  is  needed,  the  work  of  Taylor, 
as  published  by  you,  seems  to  me  well  fitted  for  the  purpose." 
The    following    is    from    President  Eastbrooke,  of  East 
Tennessee  University.    Speaking  of  the  Manual,  he  says : 

"It is  an  invaluable  work.  As  a  Text-Book  or  Manual  of 
-general  history,  it  is,  in  my  opinion,  unsurpassed.  The  ad- 
ditional chapter  on  the  history  of  the  United  States,  will 
make  it  still  more  acceptable  to  American  readers  " 


LECTURES  ON  MODERN  HISTORY: 

By  Thomas  Arnold,  D.D.,  Author  of  "The  History  of  Rome,"  etc.,  etc. 
With  an  Introduction  and  Notes,  by  Henry  Reed,  Prof,  of  English  Literature  in  the  University  of  Pennsylv'a. 

One  handsome  volume,  12mo.    $1.25. 
These  Lectures  were  considered  by  their  author  as  purely  introductory,  and  were  intended  to  excite  a  more  vivid 
interest  in  the  study  of  Modern  History  ;  and  there  is  no  book  better  calculated  for  that  purpose  than  this ;  nor  has  there 
ever  been  issued  one  so  intensely  interesting  to  Teacher  as  well  as  Pupil. 
*,*  This  volume  forms  a  portion  of  the  third  series  of  the  above  Library 


THE    BOOK    OF    USEFUL    KNOWLEDGE. 
D.  APPLETON  4-  Co.  have  just  published 

A  CYCLOPEDIA 

OF    SEVERAL    THOUSAND 

PRACTICAL   RECEIPTS, 

AND 

COLLATERAL  INFORMATION 

IN  THE 

ARTS,    MANUFACTURES,    AND    TRADES: 

INCLUDING 

MEDICINE,   PHARMACY,  AND  DOMESTIC   ECONOMY. 

DESIGNED  AS  A  COMPENDIOUS 

BOOK     OF     REFERENCE, 

FOR  THE 

MANUFACTURER,  TRADESMAN,  AMATEUR,  AND  HEADS  OF  FAMILIES. 

BY  ARNOLD  JAMES  COOLEY, 

ILLUSTRATED  WITH  NUMEROUS  WOOD  ENG-RA VINOS. 
Forming  one  handsome  Volume,  8vo.,  of  650  pages.   Price  $2  25  bound. 

The  design  of  the  work  now  offered  to  the  public,  is  to  present  an  accurate  and  compendious  collection  of  formula;  and 
processes,  together  with  a  variety  of  useful  information,  suitable  to  the  general  reader,  and  practical  purposes. 

In  the  performance  of  the  laborious  task  of  compilation,  the  principal  aim  has  been  to  render  this  work  as  extensively 
useful  as  possible,  as  well  as  a  correct,  comprehensive,  and  conveniently  arranged  manual  of  reference  on  the  subjects  on 
which  it  treats.  It  will  be  found  to  contain  directions  for  the  preparation  of  several  thousand  articles  of  interest  and  utility, 
together  with  their  properties,  uses,  and  doses,  and  generally,  the  means  of  ascertaining  their  purity,  and  detecting  theii 
presence  in  other  compounds.  In  most  cases,  the  derivation  of  the  names,  and  a  short  historical  notice  of  the  more  impor 
tant  substances,  have  been  appended  ;  and  the  various  scientific  and  technical  terms  that  occur,  have  been  generally 
defined,  for  the  purpose  of  rendering  the  work  as  self-explanatory  as  possible.  As  the  names  of  substances,  especially 
those  employed  in  chemistry,  pharmacy,  and  medicine,  have  undergone  repeated  alterations,  and  even  at  the  present  day 
frequently  vary,  as  applied  by  different  individuals,  the  old  and  new  names,  and  the  usual  synonymes,  English,  Latin,  anil 
Continental,  have  generally  been  introduced,  fur  the  purpose  of  preventing  mistakes,  and  facilitating  reference  to  mo.ti 
elaborate  works. 

A  general,  rather  than  a  scientific  arrangement  has  been  adopted,  because  the  object  of  the  work  is  popular  and  uni- 
versal ;  and  though  likely  to  be  occasionally  useful  to  men  of  science,  it  is  more  especially  addressed  to  practical  perscns, 
and  the  public  at  large. 

The  sources  from  which  the  materials  of  the  present  work  have  been  derived,  are  such  as  to  render  it  deserving  of  the 
utmost  confidence.  The  best  and  latest  have  been  invariably  resorted  to,  and  innumerable  volumes,  both  British  and  Con- 
tinental, have  been  consulted  and  compared.  A  large  portion  of  the  work  has  been  derived  from  the  personal  experience 
of  the  Editor,  and  the  processes  of  various  laboratories  and  manufactories,  many  of  which  he  can  highly  recommend,  from 
having  inspected  their  application  on  an  extensive  scale.  The  indiscriminate  adoption  of  matter,  without  examination, 
has  been  uniformly  avoided,  and  in  no  instance  has  any  process  been  admitted,  unless  it  rested  upon  some  well-knowis 
fact  of  science,  or  came  recommended  on  good  authority. 

Books  of  practical  receipts  in  general,  hitherto  have  been  compiled  with  little  regard  to  order  or  science.  In  this 
respect  there  was  a  vacancy  to  be  filled.  Something  between  the  silliness  of  ignorant  quackery,  and  the  profound  and 
extensive  developments  of  Ure's  invaluable  Dictionary,  was  wanted,  adapted  to  domestic  purposes,  which  might  gratify  the 
Amateur  desirous  to  make  a  familiar  experiment,  and  also  impart  skilful  directions  to  the  Mistress  of  the  Household,  upon 
numberless  matters  which  constantly  require  her  attention  and  judgment. 

Mr.  Cooley's  Cyclopaedia  amply  supplies  the  deficiency,  in  its  application  to  all  the  ordinary  purposes  of  life.  The 
means  to  promote  comfort  and  economy  in  the  domicil  are  unfolded.  Bakers,  and  Confectioners,  and  Grocers,  especially, 
will  learn  from  it  the  most  advantageous  methods  to  secure  good  articles  at  the  lowest  cost.  Chemists  and  Druggists  will 
comprehend  the  most  approved  and  scientific  methods  to  obtain  the  surest  effects  of  their  pharmaceutical  labors.  Agricul- 
turists will  discover  the  most  profitable  manner  to  engage  in  a  large  variety  of  their  numerous  occupations  in  the  Dairy 
the  Field,  the  Stable,  and  the  Farm-yard.  Manufacturers  and  Mechanics  who  are  engaged  in  the  working  of  Copper,  Iron, 
Tin,  Lead,  Glass,  Perfumery,  Oils,  and  Wool,  will  be  benefited  by  the  multiplicity  of  valuable  information  in  their  respec- 
tive departments.  Calico  Printers  and  Dyers,  and  the  Workers  in  India  Rubber,  also,  will  derive  extensive  additions  to 
their  knowledge  from  this  Volume.  Bookbinders,  Paper  Makers,  and  Typographers  will  also  find  their  business  explained; 
while  Dentists  and  Phonographers  will  equally  be  interested  in  the  increased  knowledge  which  they  will  imbibe  of  their 
respective  arts  and  professions,  from  Mr.  Cooley's  laborious  researches.  Hence,  his  Cyclopedia  or  Practical  Ricstm 
offers  to  all  lersons  advantages  unparalleled  by  any  similar  production. 


SUPPLEMENT    TO  DR.  URE'S  DICTIONARY, 

D    APPLETON  &  CO.  HAVE  JUST  PUBLISHED, 

RECENT    IMPROVEMENTS    IN    ARTS,    MANUFACTURES,  AND  MINES  ; 

Being  a  Supplement  to  his  Dictionary. 

BY  ANDREW  URE,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  S.%  &c,  &c. 

One  volume,  8vo.,  of  303  pages  and  near  200  elaborate  wood  cuts,  in  paper  cover,  $1,  or  in  sheep  to  match  the  Dictionary,  $1  50. 

Amongst  the  many  articles  entirely  new,  and  others  treated  at  greater    length  in  this  supplement   than  in  the  former  edi- 
tions of  the  Dictionary,  will  he  found — 

Acetic  Acid — Alcohol— Arrow  Root  (its  growth  and  properties)— Artesian  Wells  (with  a  notice  of  the  successful 
lahors  of  MM.  Arago  and  Malot  at  Grenelle,  near  Paris)— Bavarian  Beer  ("  the  mystery  of  brewing  is  more  philosophically 
studied  and  incomparably  better  understood  in  Munich  than  in  London,  and  throughout  Bavaria  than  in  England  ")  Biscuits 
(with  a  complete  description,  with  figures,  of  the  large  Automatic  Bakeries  at  Deptford  and  Portsmouth.)  Bitumen  (its  uses 
and  manufacture.)  Bread  (with  an  account  of  the  Flench  improvements,  accompanied  with  plans  of  ovens.)  Brick  Mak- 
ing (new  method,  accompanied  with  illustrations.)  Calico  Printing  (illustrated  with  elaborate  cuts  of  the  most  recent  im- 
provements.) Calomel  Calotype  (a  description  of  Mr.  Fox  Talbot's  improvement  on  Photography.)  Candles  (anew  pro- 
cess of  the  manufacture  of.)  Caoutchouc  (full  information  of  the  recent  application  of  Caoutchouc  to  the  arts,  under  Book- 
binding, Braiding  .Machine  and  Elastic  Bands.)  Chlorate  of  Potash.  Chocolate  (a  new  contribution  from  extensive  ex- 
perimental researches.)  Cofpee.  Daguerreotype  (an  elaborate  article  descriptive  of  all  the  most  recent  improvements,  ac- 
companied with  illustrations.)  Electro-Metallurgy  (a  full  account,  with  illustrations,  of  this  important  application  of  sci 
"ence  to  the  uses  o  life.)  En  smelling  (account  of  a  recent  patent.)  Evaporation  (a  new  patent  for  generating,  purifying. 
and  condensing  steam.)  Fermentation  (a  useful  companion  to  account  of  Bavaiian  Beer.)  Fuel  (an  elaborate  series  of 
experiments  on  the  measurement  of  heat,  and  the  qualities  of  different  kinds  of  Coal  )  Gas  Light  (this  article  contributed 
by  an  intelligent  friend  of  Dr.  Ure's  may  be  considered  as  astandard  treatise  on  the  subject,  itoccupies  twenty-four  pages,  and 
is  illustrated  with  many  elaborate  cuts.)  Gelatine  (accompanied  with  illustrations.)  Guano  (a  full  account  of  this  impor 
tant  aiticle  for  the  Agriculturist,  from  extensive  experiments  on  samples  of  every  description.)  Hats.  Illumination,  Cost 
of,  (a  valuable  article  on  the  diffusion  and  economy  of  Light,  with  illustrations.)  Iron  and  Smelting  (description,  with  fig- 
ures, of  the  best  plans  of  the  apparatus  for  the  hot  air  blast,  and  for  feeding  the  blast  furnace  with  mine,  limestone,  and  fuel.) 
Limps  (on  the  construction  of  Lamps  for  burning  spirits  of  Turpentine  otherwise  Camphene  )  Leather  (some  observations 
on  the  process  of  Tanning.)  Leather  Morocco  (its  manufacture.)  Leather  Splitting  (account  of  various  modes  with  il- 
ustrations.)  Malt  (the  quantity  of  malt  consumed  by  the  various  breweries  of  London.)  Metallic  Analysis  (recent  eco- 
nomical method  of  improving.  Metallic  Statistics  (collected  to  the  present  period)  Mines,  (containing  a  detailed  ac- 
count of  the  working  of  Mines,  with  their  productions,  in  various  parts  of  the  world.)  Musquet  (a  safe  and  simple  construc- 
tion of,  with  detailed  cuts.)  Oils  (the  manufacture  of  Seed  Crushing  Oil,  now  for  the  first  time  represented  by  a  complete  set 
of  figures  exhibiting  the  various  parts  of  the  Wedge  Stamping  Mill.)  Paper  (particulars  of  the  most  recent  improvements' 
with  illustrations.)  Pepper.  Pearl,  Artificial  and  Beads  (particulars  of  new  machinery  for  the  manufacture,  with  illus- 
trations.) Photography  (its  process  )  Potter's  Oven  (a  new  patent.)  Prussiaie  of  Potash  (its  manufacture,  with  illus- 
trations.) Puddling  of  Iron  (a  new  plan  of  an  economical  furnace  for  converting  cast  iron  into  bar  or  malleable  iron.)  Sac- 
charometer  (a  new  table  pointing  out  the  proportion  of  sugar,  or  the  saccharine  mat'er  of  malt,  contained  in  the  solution  ol 
any  specific  gravity.  Silk  (new  analysis  of.)  Silver  (the  extraction  of  from  lead.)  Smoke-Prevention  (details  of  an  un- 
exceptionable, simple  and  successful  plan  for  effecting  the  consummation  of  so  desirable  an  object  )  Soda  (new  experiments.) 
Spinning  (a  short  but  systematic  view  of  the  admirable  self-acting  system,  whereby  all  operations  in  a  cotton  factory  ar  i 
linked  together  in  regular  succession,  and  co-operate  with  little  or  no  manual  aid,  toward  turning  out  a  perfect  product.) 
Spirits  (with  a  new  table.)  Starch  (accompanied  with  a  detailed  illustration.)  Steel  (a  new  improvement,  with  cuts.) 
Still  (with  the  most  recent  French  improvements.)  Sugar  of  Potatoes  (fully  investigated  from  professional  resources.) 
Tea  (recent  experiments  and  remarks  on  its  properties.)  Tobacco  (is  discussed  at  considerable  length,  chiefly  from  evidence 
recently  given  before  the  House  of  Commons.)  Tortoise-Shell  (its  manufacture  into  various  objects.)  Turpentine- 
Spirits  (experiments  from  various  tests.)  Ventilation  (the  most  improved  mode.)  Water-Mineral  (several  tables  ex- 
hibiting the  nature  and  composition  of  the  most  celebrate/1  mineral  waters  of  Germany.)  White  Lead  (description  of  a  new 
patent.)  Wood-Paving  (descriptive  of  the  best  system.)  Wood- Preserving  (the  system  adapted  by  the  most  eminent  engi- 
neers.)  Zinc  (recent  improvements  in  the  manufacture  of  this  metal.)  With  an  Appendix  entitled  Chemistry  Simplified; 
&  Guide  to  Practitioners  in  testin    Alkalis,  Acids,  and  Bleaching  Substances;  in  several  departments  of  the  Chemical  Arts 

BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 
Recently  Published,  the  fourth  American  from  the  third  London  edition, 

A     DICTIONARY 

OF 

ARTS,    MANUFACTURES,    AND    MINES: 

CONTAINING    A    CLEAR   EXPOSITION    OF    THEIR    PRINCIPLES    AND    PRACTICE. 

ILLUSTRATED  WITH  1311  WOOD  ENGRAVINGS. 

One  stout  volume,  8vo,  of  1340  pages,  strongly  bound  in  leather,  $5  ;  or  in  two  volumes,  $5  50. 

In  every  point  of  view,  a  work  like  the  present  can  be  regarded  as  a  benefit  done  to  theoretical  and  practical  science 
to  commerce  and  industry,  and  an  important  addition  to  a  species  of  literature  the  exclusive  production  of  the  present  cen. 
lury,  and  the  picsent  state  of  peace  and  civilization. — JllheniEum. 

Dr  Ure's  Dictionary,  of  which  the  American  edition  is  now  completed,  is  a  stupendous  proof  of  persevering  assiduity,  com- 
bined with  genius  and  taste.  Eor  all  the  benefit  of  individual  enterprise  in  the  practical  arts  and  manufactures,  and  for  the 
enhancement  of  general  prosperity  through  the  extension  of  accurate  knowledge  of  political  economy,  we  have  not  any  wort 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  this  important  volume.  We  are  c  mvinced  that  manufacturers,  merchants,  tradesmen,  student* 
of  natural  and  experimental  philosophy,  inventive  mechanics,  men  of  opulence,  members  of  legislatures,  and  all  who  desire  to 
comprehend  something  of  the  rapidly  accelerating  progress  of  those  discoveries  which  facilitate  the  supply  of  human  wants, 
and  the  augmentation  of  social  comforts  with  the  national  weal,  will  find  this  invaluable  Dictionary  a  perennial  souiie  t»f 
salutary  instruction  and  edifying  enjoyment. — JVat.  Intel. 


A  NEW   SCHOOL  AND  REFERENCE  DICTIONARY, 

Published  by  D.  Appleton  Sf   Company. 

A  DICTIONARY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE : 

Containing  the 

PRONUNCIATION,  ETYMOLOGY,  AND  EXPLANATION  OF  ALL  WORDS 

authorized  by  eminent  writers  ;  to  which  are  added, 

A  VOCABULARY  OF  THE  ROOTS  OF  ENGLISH  WORDS, 

AND  AN  ACCENTED  LIST  OF  GREEK,  LATIN,  AND  SCRIPTURE  PROPER  NAMES 

BY  ALEXANDER  REID,  A.  M., 

Rector    of  the    Circus    School,    Edinburgh. 

with    a    Critical    Preface, 

BY  HENRY  REED, 

Professor  of  English  Literature  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

One  Volume,  12mo,  of  near  600  p-iges,  neatly  bound  in  leather.     Price  $1. 

Among  the  wants  of  our  time  was  a  good  Dictionary  of  our  own  language,  especially  adapted  for  academies  and  schools 
The  books  which  have  long  been  in  use,  were  of  little  value  to  the  junior  students,  being  too  concise  in  the  definitions  and 
immethodical  in  the  arrangement.  Reid's  English  Dictionary  was  compiled  expressly  to  develope  the  precise  analogies  and 
various  properties  of  the  authorized  words  in  general  use,  by  the  standard  authors  and  orators  who  use  our  vernacular 
tongue. 

Exclusive  of  the  large  numbers  of  proper  names  which  are  appended,  this  Dictionary  includes  four  especial  improvements 
— and  when  their  essential  value  to  the  student  is  considered,  the  sterling  character  of  the  work  as  a  hand-book  of  our  lan- 
guage will  be  instantly  peiceived. 

The  primitive  word  i3  d  stinguished  by  a  larger  type  ;  and  where  there  are  any  derivatives  from  it,  they  follow  in  alpha- 
betical order,  and  the  part  of  speech  is  appended,  thus  furnishing  a  complete  classification  of  all  the  connected  analogous  words 
of  the  same  spec  es. 

With  this  facility  to  comprehend  accurately  the  determinate  meaning  of  the  English  word,  is  conjoined  a  rich  illustration 
for  the  linguist.  The  derivation  of  all  the  primitive  words  is  distinctly  given,  and  the  phrases  of  the  languages  whence  they 
are  deduced,  whether  composite  or  simple  ;  so  that  the  student  of  foreign  languages,  both  ancient  and  modern,  by  a  reference 
to  any  word,  can  ascertain  the  source  whence  it  has  been  adopted  into  our  own  form  of  speech.  This  is  a  great  acquisition  to 
the  person  who  is  anxious  to  use  words  in  their  utmost  clearness  of  meaning. 

To  these  advantages  is  subjoined  a  Vocabulary  of  the  Roots  of  English  Words,  which  is  of  peculiar  value  to  the  collegian. 
The  fifty  pages  which  it  includes,  furnishes  the  linguist  with  a  wide-spread  field  of  research,  equally  amusing  and  instructive. 
There  is  also  added  an  Accented  List  to  the  number  of  fifteen  thousand,  of  Greek,  Latin,  and  Scripture  Proper  Nanitb. 

Recommendations. 
Reid's  Dictionary  of  the  English  Language  is  an  admirable  book  for  the  use  of  schools.      Its  plan  combines  a  greater  num- 
ber of  desirable  conditions  lor  6uch  a  work,  than  any  with  which  I  am  acquainted  ;  and  it  seems  to  me  to  be  executed  in 
general,  with  great  judgment,  fidelity  and  accuracy. 

"        J     b  C  S.  HENRY, 

Professor  of  Philosophy,  History,  and  Belles  Lettres  in  the  Universi  y  of  the  City  of  New-York. 
April  28,  1845. 

Phillips'  School,  Boston,  May  2,  1845. 
I  have  partially  examined  the  Dictionary  which  you  are  publishing,  and  am  much  pleased  with  he  plan  and  execution  of 
the  work,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  peruse  it.  Much  matter  is  condensed  into  a  small  compass.  All  words  in  good  use 
are  selected  and  clearly  defined.  Each  word  is  so  marked  as  to  indicate  its  pronunciation,  and  the  value  of  the  work  is  much 
enhanced  bv  containing  the  derivation  of  every  word.  I  hope  it  will  meet  with  that  share  of  patronage  which  it  richly 
deserves.  SAMUEL  S.  GREENE, 

Master  of  the  Phillips'  School. 

I  fully  concur  in  the  opinion  expressed  by  Mr.  Greene,  and  should  be  much  pleased  by  the  intro:luct;on  of  the  Dictionary 
into  our  public  schools.  *.  BAKER, 

Principal  of  the  Bolston  School. 


After  such  an  examination  of  Reid's  English  Dictionary  as  I  have  been  able  to  make,  I  may  safely  say,  that  I  consider  it 
superior  to  any  of  the  school  Dictionaries  with  which  I  am  acquainted.  Its  accurate  and  concise  definitions,  and  a  vocabulary 
of  the  roots  of  English  words,  drawn  from  an  author  of  such  authority  as  Bos  worth,  are  not  among  the  least  of  its  excellencies. 

Very  respectfully,  &.C, 

M.  P.  PARKS, 
Chaplain  and  Professor  of  Ethics 
U.  S.  Military  Academy,  West  Point.  7th  April,  1845. 

Philadelphia,  May  6,  1845. 
I  have  examined  Reid's  English  Dictionary  with  great  care  ;  and  am  greatly  pleased  with  it.     The  plan  is  excellent,  and 
the  author  has  evidently  bestowed  great  attention  to  minute  accuracy  in  the  details  of  execution.     I  trope  to  see  the  book  ex- 
tensively used.  JOHN  FROST, 

Professor  Belles  Lettres,  Philadelphia  High  School 

Reid's  Dictionary  of  the  English  Language  appears  to  have  been  compiled  upon  sound  principles,  and  with  judgment  and 

accuracy.     It  has  the  merit,  too,  of  combining  much  more  than  is  usually  looked  for  in  dictionaries  of  small  size,   and  will,  I 

believe,  be  found  excellent  as  a  convenient  manual  for  general  use  and  reference,  and  also  for  various  purposes  of  education. 

HENKY  REED, 
Professor  of  English  Literature  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

I  have  examined  Reid's  English  Dictionary  wi  h  much  interest  and  satisfaction,  and  take  great  pleasure  in  recommend- 
ing it  as  admirably  ad.ipted  for  usefulness  in  our  common  schools  The  julicious  omission  of  antiquated  and  obsolete 
words,  has  enabled  the  author  to  condense  the  work  within  small  compass,  and  yet  retain  every  word  in  our  language  which 
is  sanctioned  by  any  modem  writer  of  competent  authority.  The  evident  care  and  pains  taken  in  the  department  ot  orthoepy, 
the  accurate  conform  ty  of  the  orthography  to  the  best  authorities,  and  the  elaborate  etymological  learning  it  exhibits,  com 
bine  to  render  this  Dictionary  a  work  of  singular  merit  for  schools  anil  families,  for  which  it  appears  to  have  been  specially 
designed  by  its  author.  The  vocabulary  of  the  roots  of  English  wotds,  and  the  extensive  list  of  accented  classical  and  scrip- 
ture proper  names,  are  important  and  valuable  additions  winch  cannot  fail  to  be  appreciated,  especially  by  teachers  of  schools, 
for  whom  it  will  furnish  a  standard  of  reference  of  more  convenient  size  than  anv  of  the  dictionaries  now  in  use 

D.  MKREDITH  REESE 
Superintendent  Common  Schools  for  the  City  and  County  of  N  .     'oik 


OPINIONS  OP  THE  PKESS  ON  NEW  WORKS. 


The  Booh  of  the  Army — Comprising  a  general 
Military  History  of  the  United  States,  from  the 
period  of  the  Revolution  to  the  present  time  ; 
with  particular  accounts  of  all  the  most  celebra- 
ted battles.  By  John  Frost,  LL.  D.  12mo. 
$1  25. 

Mr.  Frost's  "  Book  of  the  Navy  "  has  been  circulated  to  a 
wide  extent,  as  combining  a  concise  but  accurate  delineation 
of  the  prominent  characters  and  scenes  connected  with  the 
maritime  concerns  or"  the  United  States.  The  counterpart  of 
that  volume  is  now  presented  to  us  in  the  Book  of  the  Army, 
in  which  are  depicted  the  campaigns  of  the  Revolutionary 
War,  and  the  War  of  1812;  and  also  the  conflicts  with  the 
Indians  in  our  own  boundaries.  The  volume  is  full  of  por- 
traits, sketches  of  scenery,  delineations  of  buttles,  and  picto- 
rial illustrations  of  remarkable  events.  Rich  in  well  selected 
incidents  and  spirit-stirring  strife,  it  will  be  perused  as  a  good 
memorial  of  men  whose  achievements  are  recorded  in  the 
annals  of  our  Republic." — Courier  and  Enquirer. 

"  It  is  written  in  a  lively  and  agreeable  style,  and  brings 
within  the  reach  of  the  great  mass  of  people  a  large  amount 
of  valuable  historical  information." — Albany  Spectator. 

"  Prof.  Frost  is  a  ripe  scholar,  and  a  clear  and  agreeable 
writer.  His  compilations,  in  addition  to  the  value  they  derive 
from  the  accuracy  of  the  investigations,  are  doubly  acceptable 
from  the  original  comments  with  which  he  accompanies  his 
narration  of  history  ;  and  for  these  qualities,  therefoie,  we 
can  recommend  this  his  latest  work,  which  moreover  is  abun- 
dantly illusrrated  " — Evening  Oazette. 

"  The  volume  is  correct  in  its  details,  well  arranged  and 
compiled,  and  comprises  much  memorable  information,  and 
the  publishers  have  aided  their  aurhor  by  issuing  it  with 
sixty-six  engravings  in  an  attractive  style." — Evening  Mtr- 
'or. 

History  of  France,  from  the  earliest  period  to  the 
present   time,  by  M  Michelet,  Professor  of  His 
tory  in  the  University  of  France;  translated  by 
G.  H.  Smith. 

"  So  graphic,  so  life-like,  so  dramatic  a  historian  as  Miche- 
Iet,  we  know  not  where  else  to  look  for.  The  countries,  the 
races  of  men,  the  times  pass  vividly  before  you,  as  you  peruse 
his  animated  pages,  where  we  find  nothing  of  dirfuseness  or 
irrelevancy.  It  is  a  masterly  work,  and  the  publishers  are 
doing  the  reading  public  a  service  by  producing  it  in  so  unex- 
ceptionable and  cheap  an  edition." — Tribune. 

"  Michelet  is  one  of  the  most  learned  and  vigorous  histo- 
rians of  the  present  age,  and  we  are  heartily  glad  that  his 
great  history  is  being  presented  in  so  cheap  and  excellent  a 
form." — Cour.  and  Enq. 

i  "  It  discovers  great  research  and  familiarity  with  original 
authorities,  an  uncommon  power  of  philosophical  arrange- 
ment and  analysis,  aird  an  imagination  that  can  give  to  facts 
of  other  ages  a  present  and  living  existence.  The  style  is 
uncommonly  sententious  the  translation  remarkably  free 
from  the  French  idioms." — Albany  Argus. 

"  Do  you  want  a  good  History  of  France,  buv  a  single  num- 
ber of  Michelet,  the  brilliant,  poetic,  philosophic  Michelet — 
dip  any  where  into  him,  and  you'll  soon  get  your  money's 
worth." — Cincinnati  Herald. 

i  "This  is  a  learned  and  powerful  work.  It  commences  with 
a  dissertation  upon  the  characteristics  of  the  Celts  and  Iberi- 
ans.— Freeman's  Jour. 

■•  M.  Michelet,  in  this  specimen  of  the  First  Prrt,  has  p/e- 
'sented  us  a  guaranty  th  it  we  shall  have  a  narrative  for  which 
his  acquaintance  with  the  subject,  his  capacity  and  research 
ko  eminently  qualify  him.  It  is  a  work  exactly  adapted  to 
nur  wants  ;  it  is  printed  in  a  beautiful  style — while  the  price 
is  only  twenty-five  cents  per  number." — V.  Y.  American. 

Rural  Economy,  in  its  relation  to  Chemistry, 
Physics,  and  Meteorology,  or  Chemistry  ap- 
plied to  Agriculture.  By  J.  B.  Bouissangault ; 
translated  by  George  Law.  1  vol.  516  pages. 
$1  50. 

'•The  subjects  are,  Vegetable  Physiology,  and  the  Chemi 
1  cal  Constitution  of  its  substances,  saccharine  fruits  and 
juices,  soils,  manures,  rotation  of  crops,  feeding  of  animals, 
animal  origin,  economy  of  animals,  stock  in  general  and  its 
production  of  manures,  fattening  of  domestic  stock,  and  me- 
teorological considerations — all  these  subjects,  with  their 
various  connections,  are  treated  by  their  author  in  a  clear, 
lable  and  satisfactory  manner,  and  the  philosophy  of  the  whole 
matter  considered  in  \u  relation  and  applicability  to  agricul- 
ture. The  work  is  the  fruit  of  a  lung  life  of  study  and  exper- 
iment, and  its  perusal  will  aid  the  firmer  greatly  in  obtaining 
a  practical  and  scientific  knowledge  of  his  profession." — 
American  Agriculturalist. 

"To  Liebig  belongs  the  merit  of  a  discoverer.     He  led  the 

way  in  the  application  of  exat  saged  science  to  agriculture, 

but  he  is,  with  all  his  transcendent  merit,  a  tremendous  theo- 

I  rizer.     No  such  objection  lies  against  M.  Bouissaugault,  who 


boratory,  and  tests  all  his  views  upon  his  farm  before  giv- 
ing them  to  the  world  It  is  this  that  gives  such  value  to  his 
book,  which  we  warmly  commend  to  our  agricultural  friends. 
Buffalo  Com.  Aiv. 

"A  more  compete  manual  cannot  be  desired." — Cour.  Enq. 

"  We  rejoice  that  this  work  of  an  eminent  French  teacher 
ofAgrieultur.il  Science  has  been  placed  before  the  American 
pubbe." — Tribune. 

"  The  information  it  imparts  is  exceedingly  full  and  com- 
prehensive ;  it  has  for  the  farmer  the  great  merit  of  exemp- 
tion from  scientific  technicalities."— JV.   Y  Com.  Adv. 

"  We  earnestly  commend  this  volume  to  all  who  wish  to 
comprehend  '  Rurnl  Economy.'  " — Eve  Mirror. 

"We  are  satisfied  that  a  valuable  addition  has  been  made 
to  the  amount  of  important  agricultural  information  within 
our  reach.  M.  Bouissaugault  is  not,  by  any  means,  a  mere 
theorist,  or  man  of  science — he  is  a  practical  farmer,  watch- 
ing closely  all  the  operations  of  his  plantation,  and  handling 
the  balance  himself  weighing  his  calves.  &c.  from  day  to  day, 
as  well  as  the  produce  of  his  fields,  has  ascertained  with  ex- 
actness the  results  now  produced." — Farmer's  Cabinet. 

Stable  Economy.  A  Treatise  on  the  Manao-ement 
of  Horses  in  relation  to  Stabling,  Grooming, 
Feeding,  Watering,  and  IVorking.  By  John 
Stewart,  Veterinary  Surgeon,  etc.  With  Notes 
and  Additions,  from  the  third  English  Edition, 
adapting  it  to  American  food  and  climate,  by  A. 
B.  Allen,  Editor  of  the  "  American  Agricultur- 
ist."    12mo.   $1  00. 

Here  we  have,  for  one  dollar,  the  most  admirable  treatise 
on  the  Management  of  Horses, in  the  language.  On  seeingan 
English  copy  of  the  work  a  few  years  since,  our  apprecia- 
tion of  it  was  sucb  as  to  induce  us  to  republish  it  entire  in  the 
"Spirit  of  the  Times  "  Its  value  is  now  materially  increas- 
ed by  the  Notes  and  Additions  of  Mr.  Allen,  some  idea  of 
which  may  he  gathered  from  his  account  and  diagrams  of  the 
stables  of  Mr.  Gibbons,  of  New  Jersey,  (the  owner  of  Fashion, 
etc..)  which,  by  the  courtesy  of  the  publishers,  we  give  in 
another  page  of  to-day's  paper.  The  volume  is  handsomely 
printed,  and  is  illustrated  with  a  great  number  of  engravings. 

"  No  one  should  build  a  stable  or  own  a  horse  without  con- 
sulting the  excellent  directions  for  stabling  and  using  the 
horse,  in  this  book  of  Stewart's.  It  is  an  invaluable  node  me- 
cum  for  all  who  have  the  luxury  of  a  stable." — Eve.  Mirror. 

"The  most  valuable  and  Comprehensive  manual  now  pub- 
lished, and  should  be  in  the  hands  of  all  who  keep  horses." — 
Newark  Daily  Adv. 

"  We  heartily  recommend  the  work  to  all  the  friends  ofthe 
horse." — Prov.  Jour. 

"  Any  owner  of  a  horse  who  wishes  to  treat  that  noble  ani- 
mal decently,  will  find  this  booX  full  of  useful  hints,  a  due 
observance  of  which  will  often  save  twice  the  cost  of  the 
book,  while  to  farmers,  breeders,  stage  and  livery  stable  pro- 
prietors, it  will  prove  an  invaluable  guide." — Buffao  Com 
Adv. 

My  Own  Story,  or  the  Autobiography  of  a  Child, 
by  Mary  Howitt.     1  vol.  l8mo.      33  cts. 

"  The  last  of  the  series  of  "  Tales  for  the  People  and  their 
Childron,"  and  a  delightful  little  book  it  is  ;  it  is  a  picture  of 
a  little  family — father,  mother,  and  two  little  daughters,  and 
happily  are  their  lives  delineated.  It  will  be  perused  by  the 
young  for  its  slory,  so  like  their  own,  aird  by  the  old,  for  its 
moral,  not  set  to  words  like  a  piece  of  stereotype  music,  but 
beautifully  woven  in  th^  narrative." — Norwich  Gleaner. 

"  It  is  a  narrative  ofthe  person  rl  reminiscences  ofthe  wri- 
ter ofthe  period  of  her  childhood,  and  is  told  in  a  plain,  truth- 
ful, winning  way.  It  forms  the  last  volume  of  the  delightful 
series  of  Tales  for  the  People,  and  their  Children.'  " — Prot. 
Churchman, 

Tlie  Cross  of  Christ,  or  Meditations  on.  the  Death 
and  Passion  of  our  blessed  Lord  and  Saviour  ; 
edited  by  Walter  Farquhar  Hook,  D.  D.,  Vicar 
of  Leeds.    1  vol.  lOmo.     63  cts. 

"This  is  a  devotional  work  of  great  excellence,  which  we 
hope  will  find  a  place  in  every  family.  The  meditations  are 
from  VKempis,  Aquinas,  Bonuaventura,  Gluesnel,  Andrewes, 
Taylor,  Hall,  Newman,  and  other  lights  of  the  Church,  living 
and  deceased  " — The  Churchman. 

"  As  a  manual  for  the  devout  and  meditative  Christian,  in 
the  hours  of  seclusion  and  prayer,  it  is  replete  with  exalted 
and  purifying*  reflections  ;  it  will  be  found  a  useful  guide  to 
self  exami  'ation  and  pious  devotion." — Prot.  Churchman. 

"This  is  an  excellent  little  devotionu!«mnnual  for  Christ- 
ians, not  only  during  the  Church's  Holy  we°k,  but  also  suita- 
ble as  a  companion  forevery  day  in  the  year.  The  selections 
made  here  from  the  sterling  Divines  nf  the  sixteenth  and  sev- 
enteenth cerrturies.  will  make  it  in  the  eye  of  all  an  exceed- 
ingly valuable  work.  It  should  have  a  place  in  every  Church- 
man's library." — Phila.  Enq. 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY'S  PUBLICATIONS, 

In  the  various  Departments  of  Literature. 


AGRICULTURE. 

FALKNER  on  Manures  and  Agricultural  Chemistry.  12mo. 
paper  37  1-3  cents  ;  cloth 50 

PRODUCTIVE  FARMING— A  Work  on  Tillage.  By  Jo- 
seph A    Smith.     12mo.  paper  31  cents  ;  cloth 50 

FARMER'S  TREASURE —Comprising  the  above  Works 
bound  together.     )2mo.   cloth 75 

RURAL  ECONOMY  in  its  Relation  with  Chemistry,  Phys- 
ics, and  Meteorology.  By  B.  Bouissangault.  Translated 
by  G.  Law.     12.no 1  50 

ARTS,  MANUFACTURES,  AND   ARCHITECTURE. 

URE,  Dr.  Dictionary  of  Arts,  Manufactures,  and  Mines  ;  il- 
lustrated with  1340  cuts.     1  vol.  8vo 5  00 

or  in  2  vols.,  with  Supplement 6  50 

SUPPLEMENT  to  Do  8vo  200  cuts,  paper  1  00;  sheep..  I  50 
EWB\NK'S  Hydraulics  and  Mechanics    300  plates.  8vo.3  50 

HODGE  on  Steam  Engine.     Folio  and  8vo.     2  vols 10  00 

LAFEVRE'S  Beauties  of  Modern  Architecture.  48  plates. 6  00 
Stair-case  and  Hand-rail  Constructor.  15  pi's. 3  00 

BIOGRAPHY. 

ARNOLD,  Dr.  Life  &  Correspondence.  Bv  Stanley.  12mo.l  50 
HAMILTON.  Alexander,  Life  of,  by  his  Son.  'J  veils.  8vo.5  00 
NAPOLEON,   Lite  of,  from  the  French  of  Laurent  De  L'Ar- 

deche.    2  vols.  8vo.     500  cuts 4  00 

Cheap  edition,  paper  cover 2  00 

SOUTHEY,  Robert.     Lifo  of  Oliver  Cromwell.     18mo 38 

CHEMISTRY. 

FRESENIUS,  Dr.     Elements  of  Chemical  Analysis.     Ediled 

by  Bullock.     12mo.   paper  75  cents  ;  cloth 1   00 

LIEBIG'9  Fa-niliar  Letters  on  Chemistry.     18mo 25 

PARNELL.  E.  A.  Applied  Chemistry  in  Arts,  Manufac- 
tures, and  Domestic  Economy.  Cuts.  8vo.  paper  75  cents  ; 
cloth 1  00 

HISTORY. 
ARNOLD,  Dr.     Lectures  on    Modern   Historv.      Edited   by 

Prof.  Reed.     12mo.  (nearly  ready.) 
FROST,  Prof.     History  of  the   United  States  Nary.     Plates. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 
AUSTIN,  Mrs.      Fragments   from   German   Prose   Wr.lifi 

12mo 1  25 

CARLYLE,  Thomas.     On  Heroes,  Hero  Worship,  and  the 

Heroic  in  History.      12mo 1   00 

COOLEY,  J.  E    The  American  in  Egypt.  9li  plates.  8vo.2  M 
DTSRAELI'S  Curiosities  of  Literature,  with  Curiosities  of 

American  Literature,  by  R.  W.  Griswold.     8vo 3  5ft 

DELEUZE.      Practical    Treatise    on    Animal    MagnetisnB 

Translated  by  Hartshorne.      12mo 1   00 

ELLIS,  Mrs.     Mothers  of  England.     Cloth 50 

Do.  Wives  of  England.     Cloth 50 

Do.  Daughters  of  England.     Cloth 50 

Do.  Women  of  England.     Cloth 50 

FOSTER'S  Literary  Miscellanies.     12mo 1  25 

Essays  on  Christian  Morals.     ISmo 50 


GOLDSMITH'S  Vicar  of  Wakefield.  Illustrated  with  ova* 
100  cuts.     8vo 1  25 

GUIZOT,  Madame.  Young  Student.  Translated  by  S.Jacll 
son.     18mo.     3vols.ini 75 

KEIGIITLEY'S  Mythology  for  Schools.     18mo 42 

LOVER,  Samuel.  Handy  Andy.  A  Tale.  2  plates,  papsi 
50  cents  ;  24  plates,  boards  1  00  ;  cloth 1  25 

LOVER,  Samuel.  L.  S.  D.  Treasure  Tiovc.  2  plates,  pa- 
35 


!2mo., 


.1    00 


History    of   the     United    States    Army.      Plates. 

13mo 1  25 

History  of  the   Indians  of  North   America.     Plates. 

12mo '01 

GUIZOT'S  History  of  Civilization  in   Europe.     Edited   bv 

Prof.  Henry.      l2mo. 1  00 

MICHELET'S  Complete  History  of  France.     (Now  publish- 
ing in  parts  25  cents  each. 
ROWAN'S   History  of  the    French    Revolution.     18mo.     2 

vols,  in  1 63 

TAYLOR'S  Natural  History  of  Society  in  the  Barbarous  nnd 

Civilized  State.     2  vols.     12mo 2  25 

Manual  of  Ancient  and  Modern  History.   Edited 

by  Prof.  Hem  y.     8vo.     2  25  ;  sheep : 2  50 

Ancient  History — Separate 1  25 

Modern  History.  do 150 

Already  used  as  a  Text-book  in  several  Colleges. 

MINIATURE  CLASSICAL  LIBRARY. 

Published  in  elegant  form  with  Frontispieces. 

THOMSON'S  Seasons 38 

CLARKE'S  Scripture  Promises.     Complete ..'<8 

ELIZABETH  ;  or,  the  Exiles  of  Siberia 31 

GOLDSM  ITU'S  Vicar  of  Wakefield 38 

■  Essays 3  < 

GEMS  from  American  Poets 38 

JOHNSON'S  Historv  of  Rasselas 38 

HANNAH  Mere's  Private  Devotions 31 

Practical   Piety 38 

PURE  Gold  from  the  Rivers  of  Wisdom 38 

PAUL  and  Viiginia 38 

TOKEN  of  the  Heart. — Do.  of  Affection. — Do.  of  Remem- 
brance— Do.  of  Friendship.  — Do.  of  Love,  each 31 

MOORE'S  Lallah  Rookh 38 

POLLOK'S  Course  of  Time 33 

WI LSON'S  Sacra  Privata » 31 

YOUNG'S  Night  Thoughts 38 

1 1  E  M  ANS'   Donestic  Affections 31 

USEFUL  Letter  Writer 38 


per  cover 

MAXWELL,  W.  H.     The   Fortunes  of  Hector  O'Halloran. 

2  plates,   paper   cover  50  cents  ;  24  plates,  boards  1  00. 

cloth 1  25 

OLMSTEAD,  F.  A.     Inc  dents  of  a  Whaling  Voyage.    J2m» 

Plates 1  50 

ONDERDONK,  Bishop.     Trial  of.     8vo 50 

STEWART'S   Stable   Economy.      Edited   by   A.  B.  Allen. 

12mo 1  "0 

SOUTHGATE,  Rev.  H.     Tour  in  Turkey  and  Persia.  2  vols. 

12mo.     Plates 2  00 

Visit  to  the  Syrian  Church  of  Mesopotamia. 


12mo.  map 1  00 

SINCLAIR,  Catherine.     Scotland  and  the  Scotch.     12nio.75 
Shetland  and  the  Shetlanders.     lOmo 88 


SILLIMAN,  A.  E.  Gallop  among  American  Scenery.  12mo.75 
TAYLOR,  Isaac.    Physical  Theory  of  Another  Life.   I\!mo.7j 
WOMAN'S  WORTH  ;  or,  Hints  io  Raise  the  Female  Char- 
acter.    18mo 38 

ZSCHOKKE'S  Incidents   of  Social  Life.     Translated  from 
the  German.     12mo 100 

MEDICAL 

CHAVASSE,Dr.     Advice  to  Mothers.     18mo 38 

Do.         Wives.     18mo 38 

HALL'S  Principles  of  Diagnosis.     8vo 2  00 

POETRY. 

CABINET  LIBRARY  OF  THE  POETS. 

BURN^'  Complete  Poetical  Works,  with  Life,  Glossary,  etc 

Kimo.  cloth.     Illustrated 1  25 

COWPER'S  Complete  Poetical  Works,  with  Life,  etc.  2vols. 

Kimo.  cloth.     Illustrated I  75 

MILTON'S  Complete  Poetical  Works,  with  Life,  etc.    16mo. 

cloth.     Illustrated 1  '-'■"' 

Paradise  Lost.     18mo 38 

Paradise  Regained!     18mo 25 

SCOTT'S  Poetical  Works,  with  Life,  etc.      lGmo.  cloth.    Il- 
lustrated  12.") 

Lady  of  the  Lake.     16mo 38 

Marmion.     16mo 3$ 

Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.     lOmo. 25 

HEMANS'  Complete  Poetical  Works.     Edited  by  her  Sister. 
•J  vols.  lGmo.      Illustrated  with  10  steel  plates,  cloth.  ..2  50 

RECORDS  of  the  Heart.     By  Mrs.  Lewis.      l2mo 1  00 

SOUTHEY'S  Complete  Poetical  Works.     8vo.     Cloth  3  50; 

sheep 4  00 

Other  volumes  of  Poetry,  see  Miniature  Library. 

NATURE'S  GEMS  ;  or.  American  Flowers  in  their  native  haunts.  By  Emma  C.  Embury.— Willi  Twenty  Platui 
of  Plants,  carefully  Colored  after  Nature;  and  Landscape  Views  of  their  localities,  from  Drawings  taken  .m  the  spot,  by  F-.  W. 
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CONTINUATION  OF  D.  APPLETON   AND  COMPANY'S  PUBLICATIONS 

In  the  various  Departments  of  Literature. 


RELIGIOUS. 

VNTHON'S  Catechisms  on  the  Homilies.     18mo 06 

SUBNET'S    History   of  the   Reformation.     Edited  by   Dr. 

Nare3.     Best  edition.    23  portraits.     4  vcls.  8vo 8  00 

'heap  edition,  3  vols 2  50 

SURNET   on   the   Thirty-nine   Articles.     Edited   by  Page. 

Best  edition.     8vo 2  00 

IBLE  Expositor,  The.  Illustrated  with  70  cuts.  ]2mo..75 
EAVEN'S  Help  to  Catechising.  Edited  by  Dr.  Anthon.  .00 
IRUDEN'S   Concordance   to   the    New  Testament.    24mo. 

sheep 50 

RADLEY'S  Sermons  at  Clapham  and  Glasbury.    8vo..1  25 

Practical  Sermons 1   50 

Family   and   Parish   Sermons,  comprising   the 

above.     2  vols,  in  I .2  50 

CHURCHMAN'S  LIBBARY. 

Tie  volumes  of  this  series  are  of  a  standard  character 
and  uniform  in  style. 

OOK,  The  Cross  of  Christ ;  Meditations  on  our  Saviour. 

16mo (3 

VES,  Bishop.     Sermons.     16mo 63 

GILBY'S  Lectures  on  the  Church  in   England  and  A  mer- 
it ARSH  ALL'S   Notes   on  Episcopacy.      Edited    by   Wain- 

Iwright.     12mo ]  95 

PE.NCER'S  Christian  Instructed.     16mo I  25 

JEVVMAN'S  Sermons  on  Subjects  of  the  Day.     12mo...l  25 

1  ANNING  on  the  Unity  of  the  Church.     16mo. i  00 

J'KEMPIS      Of  the  Imitation  of  Christ.     16mo 100 

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